Caught in the rain
by Iikaspeck
Summary: -sniffle- This is the lastest chapter. It contains what happened in the lapsed time! But if you want, I mean REALLY want an epilogue or a sequel...r&r and tell me so! This chapter is rated R for and itsy bitsy bit of gore. Enjoy!
1. Start at the Very Beginning

Out in the Rain  
  
1893  
  
April 24  
  
"Tragedy"  
  
___________________________________________  
  
"...don't leave me, all by myself..." the singsong voice drifted throughout the streets of Queens. Tragedy, in a rather literal sense, had struck, and there was nothing anyone could do. Now, one small girl stood atop the lodging house, singing out to the silent city and paying last respects to the leader of Queens, her older brother, Hawkins; Called so because of the small copy of 'Treasure Island" he carried with him.  
  
Emerald, called so because she haled from the Emerald Isle, was the singing girl in question. She, with her long straight hair and turned up nose with a subtle sprinkling of freckles, at the age of ten, stood at a respectable height of four foot three. It was rather astounding that she could project such a large sound from such a petite frame.  
  
She was Queen's princess and wherever Hawkins went, she wasn't far behind. The girl had been taught to throw a knife at age seven, learned poker at five, and had been living in the lodging house since 1887, age four, when Hawkins had been caught by a group of newsies as he was trying to pick pockets. The then leader, Switch, named for his eyes; one blue, one brown, had taken the two in, noting the resemblance between Hawkins and his little brother Tragedy.  
  
Things had gone well and Hawkins had bonded with Tragedy, given their similarities. But when the duo had turned 13 in 1893 things went down hill. It was rather obvious that Tragedy and Hawkins, Hawk for short, were in the lead for territory leader when Switch retired. Switch had been leaning towards the rather brawny Hawk instead of his wiry brother. Hawkins had become leader, and after six months, Tragedy challenged him for the position. All Emerald could do was watch from the sidelines, and watch from the sidelines she did...when her brother was stabbed in the chest three times.  
  
(______________________________)  
  
"Dis is it Hawk...it cain't be like dis no moah," Tragedy yelled over the rain that had begun to fall.  
  
"We cain't be friends no moah neither! You took what's mine, and now youah gonna pay!" He continued, glaring. Tragedy was a rather thin boy, with sandy hair and cold gray blue eyes. He was no doubt handsome, in that cold dark sort of way; but he was jealous. Above all things, he was jealous. And beneath the cold exterior that yearned for leadership and respect that rooted from something other than fear, there was a passion for one silver eyed girl who's words were far and few. He had done anything and everything to win her affections, but still, she stayed close to her brother and that stupid Jersey kid. Well, the thought came to him. If I'se cain't have her an' da leadahship, Is'll take dem both! And so he challenged Hawk, his best friend.  
  
"C'mon Tragedy! I know yous don't wanna do dis!" Hawkins had tried desperately to call off the fight, but all efforts were unsuccessful.  
  
"Youah wrong Hawkins!" Tragedy roared, unsheathing his knife. "I'se only ever wanted dis! And you ain't gonna stand in me way! Draw your damned knife!"  
  
The two danced around each other, slowly circling towards one another. Hawkins on the defense, trying hard not to harm his best friend; but soon, Tragedy had swept his feet out from under him and placed the knife pointed to his chest. The fight should've ended there. It was customary that an opponent should only brought down, not killed. Hawkins smiled grimly at his sister, if that was the way it was done that was the way they had to do it. Then, things seemed to slow down as Tragedy raised the knife and plunged it deep into Hawkin's chest.  
  
She had screamed, oh she had screamed. Her throat was raw from all of it. The second Tragedy raised the knife she knew exactly what was going to happen, and in that instant, she could do nothing but smile grimly as she saw her brother's last expression. An expression once generous, kind, smiling, wise, now distorted by pain. Tragedy had run the second the knife escaped Hawk's ribcage the third time, leaving the huddle of newsies and the broken form of the dead boy speechless in the rain.  
  
Emerald leapt forward, but Jersey instantaneously grabbed her arm, pulling her back. She turned to peer up at him and screamed, it was all she could do. The screaming went on for what seemed like decades. But, the situation being what it was, no one complained or questioned it. It just...fit.  
  
Soon, the rain began to let up, and another sound broke through the calm. Sirens, lots of sirens. The newsies began to scatter, taking assorted paths back to the Lodging House. Emerald simply stood there, and then, noticing something, she took three steps forward. Jersey had let her go, she needed to say goodbye. Emerald leant down and pulled the drenched hat from her brother's lifeless cranium, and then placing a kiss on his cold, strained countenance, she ran. Ran away from everything that was, and Jersey simply followed. This, also, seemed to fit.  
  
(__________________________)  
  
"No.." the distressed moan forced its self from between frozen lips as the small huddle atop the roof replayed the events in her mind. Over and over and over again, trying desperately to think what she could've done to stop it.  
  
" 'Ey, Em?" a voice called from the window she'd used to climb out onto the roof. A muscular boy who had taken the leading position followed the voice. Though Tragedy had won the fight, no doubt, fear had driven him out of the city. His sandy hair fell into his laughing brown eyes and over his freckled nose as he flopped to a sitting position next to Emerald. From the huskiness of his voice, one would assume him to be at least 15, and one would be close too.  
  
"Em, Tragedy ain't comin' back 'ere any time soon. 'E broke da rules and so, he cain't. It ain't no use sittin' up 'ere 'n gettin' chilled waitin' for 'im," The boy, Jersey, remarked, laying an arm about her narrow shoulders and lifting her to a standing position.  
  
" 'E ain't da one I'se lookin' foah, Joisey," Emerald said before the two walked inside. "I'se lookin' foah 'Awk. You knows dat," He left her at her bed and pondered her words, torn up inside over the small girls pain.  
  
"Em, don' you'se worry. Yous'll see 'im sometime 'gain, I'se promisin' ya's that 'un," Jersey always had something comforting to say, but Emerald paid it no mind as the repetitive sound of her brothers cries of pain rang out in her head as she slept.  
  
____________________________________________  
  
April 26  
  
1893  
  
"...Its a bittersweet symphony..."  
  
___________________________________________  
  
A gentle spring sun streamed into the lodging house through the large windows, wakening the newsies one by one. Groans, splashing of waters and yawns drifted through the air, muffling the sigh that had escaped chapped tiers of one continuously sullen girl.  
  
"Joisey, I wanna go," she announced, standing and brushing off her attire: a fitting, gray, flannel, long-sleeved shirt and a pair of black pants, topped off with her knife belt and Hawk's black hat. Jersey stood and pulled his black belt about his waist.  
  
"A'ight, we'se goin'..." he looked at her questioningly when she didn't make a move towards the door.  
  
"Dat ain't what I means," she said, resting her palm on the hilt of her throwing knife. It had been a gift from Switch when she'd first learned to throw. He's reportedly stolen it off a visiting China man. The hilt was silver-plated, and etched into the base of the blade, was a Chinese dragon. It was a beautiful weapon, yet one she never hoped to use.  
  
"Well, whaddaya mean den?" Jersey questioned, placing his hand on her shoulder.  
  
"I mean, I wanna go. I wanna get outta Queens, too much hoyt left 'ere," she  
  
announced, glaring at the ground.  
  
"Oh," the reply was whispered, he knew it was best, there was going to be a power struggle in Queens, and Emerald didn't need another death. That was for damned sure.  
  
"D'you'se really wanna get outta Queens? Ah' you shuah?" he questioned, lifting her chin and peering into her eyes for any sign of regret at the words that came next.  
  
"Yeah, I cain't stay 'ere, I just.... cain't," she spoke softly, inching away from his grasp and flinching when he began to reach for her.  
  
"I t'ink...I t'ink I can fin' a place for ya, but you gotta prah'mis to be cahahful. Dese boys you'll be woikin wit', dey won' 'spect ya like we'se do," he gave a sigh of surrender, he had avoided it like a plague, but he had to send her to where she'd be the very most protected.  
  
"Really?" her head shot up "You'se ain't kiddin', where'd ya send me?" she questioned, her voice echoing in the now empty lodging house.  
  
"I'se gots a pal down in Brooklyn dat'd take you'se, 'is name's Dice Conlon. I t'ink you'd like 'im, 'e owes me a favoah anyways," and as simple as that, it was decided. Emerald was going to Brooklyn.  
  
___________________________  
  
1893  
  
April 30  
  
"C'mon baby role the dice!"  
  
___________________________________________  
  
Jersey and Emerald had set off that very moment. Making the long walk enjoyable by telling stories.  
  
"Joisey? Why's 's guy owe ya a favoah? The boy slowed his pace and smirked at the memory.  
  
(_________________________)  
  
" 'e's a WHAT?" The flabbergasted remark reverberated of the walls of the Queens lodging house where a boy named Books, who had taken over the territory of Brooklyn spoke feverently and quietly to Switch. "Shh! Dey don't all gotta know!" Books replied fidgeting nervously, "'e's a mute, 'e dont talk." The conversation was taking place in the middle of a territorial war, being secretive was everything. "I cain't take 'im! I gots a territory t' look aftah! How da devil's da boy gonna hawk?" the other boy, bowed his head and sighed. "I dunno, get him a friend. Da kid knows how ta fight, he caint speak, but he's valuable," Books continued, desperately trying to get Switch to take the boy. "Well, I tink...maybe...'e might be okay wid summah da smahlah boys," The sun was beginning to rise and secrets thrived in only the dark. "Oh boy, Switch, you aint got no idea what dis means t'me!" Books leapt up and ran out the door, only to return three or four hours later with a small boy who had stringy black hair, silvery eyes, and no voice. Dice, as he had been named for his skill in the game, found refuge with Jersey. The two were perfect opposites and could move their fair share of papers in a week. After the territorial war however, Dice had to go back to care for his little brother...Spot.  
  
(______________________)  
  
A small smile crept onto Jersey's face as he told the tale, and soon they reached the pier, Dice's after-sale hangout.  
  
"Pass woid cutie?" a burly sixteen-year-old directed at the small girl before him, she glared right up into his eyes.  
  
"Get outta me way," she commanded, letting her arms hang akimbo and sending him a rather lazy look.  
  
"But what if I don' wanna get outta youah way?" he continued harassing her as a dark figure moved stealthily up behind him, shoving him into the water. The boy was sixteen and had chin-length, stringy, black, wet hair. He towered above Emerald, but wasn't much taller than Jersey. He assessed the small girl with cold gray blue eyes that when looked into right, held a mischievous glint. Then nodded, looking up to Jersey and moving his hands in a rather odd fashion.  
  
Jersey apparently knew sign language, for every time Dice signed something, Jersey would speak back. They seemed to be carrying on a rather long conversation. Emerald cleared her throat.  
  
"Oh, eh, sorry Em." Jersey stated and after making a point of looking at her, he resumed his conversation with Dice, who nodded and jerked his head to the left,  
  
" 'E says da lodgin' house is ovah dere someweah's," Jersey interpreted, casting his arm about her shoulders once more. The reality of what was happening had hit him, and he felt bad about giving her up, but it had to be done. She was in the leader's family, and once you killed a leader...  
  
"Well, we bettah go, " Jersey announced awkwardly. Emerald looked up at him, her eyes full of fear. What if everyone in Brooklyn was like the first guy?  
  
"Yous'll visit, won'cha?" she questioned, grabbing his sleeve. He pulled her into a hug.  
  
" 'A course I'll visit you'se!" he comforted her, and then broke away.  
  
Good-byes were said and through the group of soaking newsies, a ten-year- old was lead by a boy with no voice.  
  
________________________________________________  
  
All right! That was the first chapter of many. They all might have three or more (Or less) parts. All the quotes are just things I've heard. Most are going to be from songs. Please review, I wanna know what you think of my story! The next chapter will be out soon!  
  
"...All by myself..." is pulled from the line "Lordy dont leave me, all by myself." - In This World - Moby  
  
"Tragedy" - Tragedy - Steps  
  
"...Bittersweet Symphony" - Bittersweet Symphony - the Verve  
  
"C'mon baby roll the dice" - Three Small Words - Josie and the Pussycats 


	2. I ain't changed, but I know I aint the s...

Out In The Rain  
  
1893  
  
April 24  
  
"You say 'Goodbye' I say 'Hello'"  
  
Emerald walked into the lodging house lead by Dice. To her surprise, there was already someone in the small, dank room. He identified himself as Books, co-leader of the territory of Brooklyn.  
  
"I intoypoyt foah Dice, heah," he motioned to Dice, who was standing over by the bunk bed nearest the small black stove nestled into the wall.  
  
"Dis'll be yoah bunk." A short gangly fellow, Books, interpreted for Emerald as Dice rambled off in signs. Books had big clear blue eyes, covered by a pair of glasses, and short brown hair that he wore slicked back under a newsie cap; he appeared to be about seventeen. Suddenly there was a yell from out on the pier and Dice made a simple sign with his hands before taking off. The two caught on soon enough, and raced off after him.  
  
(______________________)  
  
"ThebastardI'llstranglethefoolI'llkill'imIwill!" a short Irish fellow was yelling at a very self-satisfied looking boy who had the hair and eyes of Dice. He spoke so quickly however, that it sounded like one big long swear word. The boy who had stopped Emerald earlier was holding the Irishman, with his flaming red hair and red face, back.  
  
"Red!" Books yelled, apparently taking on the role of yelling at the boy. He took a step foreword as Red pulled away from his restraint to explain.  
  
"Dat kid'n his sling shot-" he began and then started rambling off in Irish dialect that no one really understood.  
  
"Uh huh...uh huh...Ya wanna r'peat dat in en'lish?" Books suggested. Emerald took her turn to step in.  
  
"He basically said I'll kill 'im, 'e 'it me with his slingshot, 'e doesn't belong 'ere, I'll kill 'im," she announced, and then noticing the stares she received, she blushed, ducking behind Books, who merely smirked.  
  
"Spot," Books started, the boy just rolled his eyes. He appeared to be one year Emerald's senior, and very independent.  
  
"Yer in da runnin' foah leader, but dat don' mean ya gets to run rampant," Books continued. So that settled it, Spot was Dice's brother. And he didn't care about anyone.  
  
"Who's she?" one slender finger pointed to Emerald and Spot spoke rudely as if he couldn't care less who she was.  
  
"She's...eh..whats yoah name?" Books questioned leaning down. Jersey had said that Brooklyn owed them a favor, nothing else was told about the little girl. She couldn't give him her real name, they'd ask too many questions.  
  
"I'se Silvah; Silvah Hawkins," she whispered, using her brother's name as an alias. Spot glared.  
  
"What's she doin' here? She's a goil," Spot demanded, looking her up and down.  
  
"Yeah, I'se a goil. Dats a brilliant assessment ya just made dere," she snapped. And then, looking rather furious with herself she turned on her way back to the lodging house. Spot glared after her, Books just laughed, and Dice smiled. He loved his brother dearly...but someone had to defy the little fart.  
  
Emerald, or Silver, sat on her bunk, glaring up at the ceiling, this was not going to be anything like Queens, she'd need new people, a new selling spot, everything.  
  
__________________________________  
  
1897  
  
October 9  
  
"You need a strength most dont possess."  
  
_______________________________________  
  
"'Appy boithday!" Books called over the noise in the lodging house. He reached a frail arm to Spot, dumping a small box in his lap. The boy was surrounded by gifts, even one from Silver. From Dice, to Spot, was scrawled on the cardboard. Spot ripped at the box, tearing it nearly to shreds until something wrapped in newspaper fell onto the floor before him. Ripping hastily at the object, his silvery eyes opened wide upon seeing it was a slingshot. It wasn't just any sling-shot, it was a leader's slingshot.  
  
Silver had heard of this tradition. When a leader retired in Brooklyn, they passed on their slingshot to their successor. Spot looked with wonder upon the small object. Books grinned at Dice, who in turn, grinned at everyone else. Spot hadn't done to bad on this birthday. He'd gotten a book, a long cane he guessed was stolen, and a small, humbly carved knife from Silver and last but not least, the territory of Brooklyn.  
  
(______________________)  
  
"Silvah?" Books questioned, not too surprised at finding her on the roof again. He crawled towards the girl, followed by Dice.  
  
"Why ya sittin' 'ere by ya'self? Its a joyous time!" He continued, ruffling her hair. She sat on the very edge of the building, staring out across the district, admiring the view of the bridge. Dice knelt down next to her and as she turned towards him, he looked at her questioningly, raising those charcoal brows that shaded eyes beseeching an answer.  
  
"I...I ain't real comfortable 'round leadah's, evah since...well...a long time, I been scah'ed of em. 'Sides, he don't like me," she murmured, reaching up to twist a strand of Dices hair, he smiled, watching her innocent fingers twirl the ebony strands. He and Books began to ponder her response, the former looked up at he latter and nodded.  
  
She's lying through her teeth, Dice thought grimly.  
  
"Would ya at least come in? It's too cold foah goils t'be out, and we wont make ya go neah Spot" Books concluded as Dice pulled her into a standing position and they walked back towards the fire exit. This seemed all too familiar to Silver. Jersey had brought her down from the roof often. She always went up there when she wanted to be above her problems. Dice and Books had noticed this too, but they never really asked why. All Jersey had said was that she needed a place to go, no one had really thought to ask why.  
  
Past is past, Books reminded himself, If she don' wanna tell, I ain't gonna make 'er tell, but Joisey. he's anoddah story.  
  
(_______________________)  
  
"Chase, I needs a favoah from ya," Books began interpreting for Dice as the three, along with Spot, met in the bathroom. Chase was a rather small boy, with muddy green eyes and black hair.  
  
"Ya know dat goil Silvah? I need 'er inside story, I wanna know why she's heah," Spot continued for him, relishing in his newfound power.  
  
While the boys inside sat and ate and played poker, Silver sat on her bed, fidgeting nervously whenever someone said her name, or even something that sounded like her name. She was so involved in her thoughts, she never saw the newsie Chase run off across the bridge.  
  
______________________________________  
  
1897  
  
October 9  
  
3:00 am  
  
"Don't speak...stop explaining."  
  
______________________________________  
  
"Joisey, I ain't in a position to go back wid out an ansah," Chase pleaded, as Jersey held his ground. He'd been sent to get the inside scoop on Silver and so far that wasn't happening.  
  
"Look, Chase, if she don' wanna tell you her story, den you ain't got no business knowin it," Jersey remarked fiercely, Silver was keeping a perfectly good secret, and if it got out, Tragedy would know exactly where to find her; he'd been looking, that was obvious. Fires, Tragedy's trade marks, had been sparking up in lots of popular Queens newsie hangouts, but when Emerald was no where to be found, he'd moved to Stanton, and was wreaking havoc there.  
  
"She don't trust you, oah any one else, rightly so. When the time comes fer her to tell ya, she will," Jersey tried to reason, Chase sighed.  
  
"Den youah gonna have to deal with Spot and Books when they come looking foah a story," he warned, plunking his hat back on his head and trotting outside, it was nearly morning and he was starved. By the time Chase had returned, eaten, and given his excuse to Spot and Books, it was almost noon. And selling for the day was almost finished.  
  
(_____________________)  
  
"Fiahs break out in Stanton! Lives at stake, city does nothing!" Silver roared over the crowds of people. For once she didn't need to improve the headline. She could see Spot on the next corner, selling the last of his one hundred papes. She'd taken one hundred and fifty and had just sold her last pape.  
  
"Need some help theah Conlon?" she questioned, striding over to him, he was clad in black slacks and a blue shirt with his trademark suspenders and cap. His cane lay at his side, and he sneered at her as he sold his last paper.  
  
"No, Silvah, I do not need youah help. I'se doin just fine as you can see," he continued, cocking his head and looking her up and down in disgust.  
  
"You don' belong heah anyways, why would I want youah help?" he'd gone too far, and he knew he was treading on thin ice. She had always been touchy about being where she belonged. And without warning, her small fist swung in a wide arc, catching him square in the jaw.  
  
"You'se right, I don' belong heah," spitting on his shoes she turned and headed back to the lodging house, with a rather dazed, but fully pissed Spot on her heels.  
  
"Now you just wait one damned minute!" he roared, as she was walking up the stairs. She paused dramatically, just to humor him for a second, and then started up again.  
  
"I give you woyk and put a roof over youah head and dis is how you'se repayin' me?" he asked, latching onto her arm. She yanked the appendage back and paused to glare at him.  
  
"No, dis is how I repay yer bruddah 'e took me in, I don't owe yous nuttin!" she roared, walking into the bedroom and climbing out onto the fire escape. Spot paused to glare at the bruise she'd given upon him; it was now turning sickening shades of greenish yellow.  
  
The girl got to him, really got to him. He'd just become the leader the night before and already she challenged every word he said. He knew it pissed her off when someone questioned her standings as a newsie so it was partly his fault. But she couldn't defy him forever. She might even start her own little revolt. The thing Spot wanted to know most was why. Why was she the way she was? Why was she even here?  
  
He followed her out into the roof; he'd pry into her sooner or later. He had to figure her out, he just had to.  
  
"Leave me alone Spot!" she commanded crisply, flopping down on the edge of the building. Spot simply stood behind her.  
  
"Why d'you go lookin' foah trouble?" he questioned backing away as she stood. His voice had become calmer, almost nicer, but Silver wasn't buying it. She knew he just wanted the background dirt on her, and that was one or many things she'd never give him.  
  
"Spot," she said turning around to face him, "You aint got no business askin me dat. I know-" He cut her off, gripping her shoulders and whirling her around so he stood near the edge. Spot was maniacal enough to yell at her, but not homicidal enough to push her over.  
  
"Oh you know?" he roared, intense eyes gleaming with hatred. But inside his brain, a fiercer fire was burning, the fire of curiosity.  
  
"You know do ya? You're da one who has an answer foah every question and a way outta every problem but you know not'in'!" he continued his assault, shoving away from her then walking towards her until she began to back away.  
  
"You keep prahtendin' ta live Silvah! Youah a prisoner in yer own damned house, and even worse, yoah a prisoner of yoah secrets!" he continued yelling at her, and surprisingly, the small girl held her ground. They'd been getting into fights with each other since the day she arrived and it wasn't getting any better for either of them. It happened every day; one would make some snide comment and then the other would retaliate. Never before, not like this. They'd been there before, but not like this.  
  
Okay, I've reformatted due to reviews! Hopefully, it worked this time!  
  
"Never before, not like this." That's from Nickelback's 'Never Again' "You say goodbye." That's the Beatles "You need a strength most don't posses." The mighty mghty Bosstones, 'The impression that I get'  
  
"Don't speak." No Doubt, 'Don't Speak" 


	3. Home is where the hurt is

Out in the Rain  
  
1879  
  
"I wanna know."  
  
____________________________  
  
" I'm gonna tell you two the same ting I tol' youah boy Chase," Jersey remarked as Spot and Books pounded their way into the Queens Lodging house.  
  
"You cain't do dis t'me," Spot countered, yanking his hat off and wiping his forehead, "I'se Brooklyn," he replaced the hat. Jersey didn't really care, for he was now rather annoyed with Brooklyn. They'd already sent someone for the story, but the bumbling fools wouldn't take no for an answer. And another thing, why now? She'd been there for three years and there were no complaints. Why were questions surfacing now? The easy answer: Spot.  
  
" I don't cahah if youah da Queen a' Englan' I aint tellin' ya nuttin!" Jersey walked out into the streets of Queens, shrugging in the cold and making sure to avoid patches of frost.  
  
"Spot, I tol' you dis was a bad idea," Books began, only to be cut off with a death glare. Spot was already halfway out of the lodging house. He'd stalk Jersey all day if he had to.  
  
(_____________________________)  
  
Back in Brooklyn, however, things were running much more smoothly. Spot Conlon had more than his share of woman friends and so no one questioned the leaders absence; Books was rumored to have visited his old man.  
  
Silver wasn't taking any of it in. She'd caught Chase coming in late that morning and remembered she hadn't seen him at the distribution office.  
  
"Tell me Chase," she warned after cornering him that afternoon. He'd been walking to Chicago's, the pizza place; and she'd snuck up on the poor boy, backing him up against a wall. Silver was nearly six inches taller than Chase and about six years older.  
  
"Where's Spot'n Books? Where'd dey go?" she questioned, placing the heel of her hand on his collarbone to keep him in place.  
  
" I swore 'em I wouldn't tell Silvah, ma'am!" he squeaked, she pressed a bit harder, "I gave 'em me woid! Dey'd kick me out if I tol ya!" Silver pondered this, he was younger.and almost reminded her of Hawk.  
  
"I'll see to it dat you stays right 'ere, but only if ya spill," she reasoned, loosening up on his chest.  
  
"Dey..dey went to Joisey," he'd hoped she thought he meant the state, but she wasn't fooled.  
  
"What'd dey want from him?" Chase sighed pitifully, knowing his cover was blown.  
  
"Dey wanted youah story."  
  
(________________________________)  
  
"Will you stop stalkin' me like dat?" Jersey questioned, exasperated.  
  
"I'll stop stalkin' when you staht talkin'," Spot remarked, chuckling at his own joke.  
  
He'd followed Jersey all the way down town, and to the circulation center. Jersey had gotten his papers and headed on his way to the corner where he usually sold. He was very touchy about the corner, and with good reason. That corner was where Hawk died. No one who valued their life sold on or even looked at that corner the wrong way. Spot took a rest from asking and made the mistake of making like he was about to spit. Jersey dashed over and clasped a hand around Spot's slender throat.  
  
"You even tink about spittin' on dis heah cohnah' an' I'll see datcha don't nevah spit again," Books quirked a brow at the sudden change in his friend. Walking hesitantly, he placed his hand on Jersey's outstretched arm.  
  
"Now, Joisey.breathe an' coun' ta ten," Jersey reluctantly pulled his arm back and Spot indignantly rubbed his neck.  
  
"D'you mind tellin' me what da hell dat was?" he questioned, leering at Jersey. Suddenly a tall athletic looking boy turned the corner at break- neck speed, throwing on the breaks just in time. The boy had auburn colored hair and pale blue eyes. Jersey immediately recognized him as one of Jack's boys.  
  
"What'cha need Ah'cha?" Archer paused to catch his breath.  
  
"Fiah.Manhattan, at da lodgin' house.people been hoit!" he forced out between pants. Spot sent Books back to Brooklyn to get more help while he, Archer, and Jersey ran to Manhattan.  
  
________________________________ 1897  
  
"Goin' down in flames"  
  
__________________________________  
  
Flames licked the windows and doorframes of the Manhattan Lodging House. Many injured newsboys sat tending those worse off then they.  
  
"Jersey! Spot!" Jack had yelled as they reached the site. It was worse than the two of them could have imagined. The territory of Brooklyn arrived soon after. The Manhattan fire squad had been called and they were containing the blaze, but the newsies were much more interested in tending to their own.  
  
A small figure stood mere feet away from the building, staring at the roaring inferno. Her silvery eyes transfixed on the sight of orange-yellow flames licking over black-gray charred timbers. Jersey and Spot headed towards the figure yelling. Realizing who the figure was, both boys ran even harder. Small pieces of debris fell around her.  
  
"Emerald! Get away from there!" The second Jersey heard the words leave his mouth, he regretted them with a passion. He'd heard from spies that she'd changed her name to Silver, and hoped fiercely that it hadn't registered with Spot.  
  
" Dere you goes again!" Spot roared as they led her away, casting naught but a sidelong glance at Jersey after the 'Emerald' incident, "Makin' moah trouble foah' ya'self!"  
  
"I aint makin' trouble!" she said indignantly, turning towards the two, trying desperately to ignore what Jersey had said. "What? You tink I stahted dis fiah?" She balled her hands into fists at her side as the two followed her into the street.  
  
"Lissen, I aint got nuttin against Manhattan, oah any a' Jack's boys," She calmly defended herself as they stood in the center of the road, watching the destruction from a 'safe' distance.  
  
"I b'lieve 'er Spot," Jersey remarked shaking the ash from his golden locks.  
  
"You," Spot turned to Jersey, sending him a glare, "stay outta dis. She's my newsie now.aint'cha Emerald?" he demanded, grabbing her wrist as she made a move to turn and run.  
  
"So what? You knows me old name, doesn't mean I started nuttin!" she remarked, tugging away.  
  
"Dat don't mean you don't know who did. You came ta Brooklyn wid nuttin, you was runnin' from sometin'!" the accusation was made, clear and sharp. Jersey stood back, watching helplessly. He couldn't defend her, and he couldn't tell her story for her.  
  
"Oah.someone."  
  
I cant tell him anything. She thought.  
  
All she could do was run.  
  
______________________________  
  
1879  
  
"In the end."  
  
_________________________  
  
"Alright, you'se boys have been dropped in here until we can find anodda lodgin' house," Spot stood atop a crate, speaking to several boys from Manhattan an' since I'se nice." this comment was met with more than a few sniggers.  
  
"I'se gonna recommend sellin spots. Boots, you take the coahnah right off da bridge; Skittery, undah da biggest oak in da pahk;" he rambled off place after place and all was well until he came to two blonde individuals.  
  
"Dutchy, Blink.you two take da coahnahs across from da Dinah," Silver rocketed out of her seat.  
  
"Dats my spot! You cant give dose bummahs my spot!" she protested, stalking to the front of the room and glaring up at Spot.  
  
"No, see, I'se da leadah, I does what I please," Spot countered, making the two before him chuckle.  
  
"C'mon sweet face," Blink began, bending down to eye level, " You could always come sell wid us.me," he raised a brow " and den, aftah, we could." he trailed suggestively only to find a knifepoint at his forehead. Emerald never pulled her knife until it was a matter of her life. Silver was another story all together. She'd pulled the blade as fast as one could blink and placed the cool metal against his forehead.  
  
" We could.but den, see, I'd have ta kill ya," she remarked.  
  
"Now, now Silvah," Spot warned, pushing the knife from Blink's forehead,  
  
"I'se still not in real good standin wit'choo. You'll sell wit me, we got talkin' ta do " twirling the knife about her finger a couple of times and then sheathing it, she sent Blink a final death glare. He merely blew kisses at her.  
  
(___________________________________)  
  
Spot and Silver had decided to race, being the competitive souls that they were. Spot won.  
  
"You owes me! Tell me who you tink stahted dem fiahs!" Spot commanded as the two walked into the diner at midday.  
  
"Dat aint true!" Silver protested in a fierce whisper as he shoved her into a booth.  
  
"I didn't nevah say I agreed to dat bet, you just made it youah self!" her eyes were ablaze with hatred as he grabbed hold of her wrist, as he so often did when he wanted her attention.  
  
" I know you got's an ideah, and you aint movin' one inch until ya tell me who, you owes me Silvah' I'se byin you lunch!" he smirked knowing he had her.  
  
"If I tol' ya once, I'se tol ya a thousand times; I don't owe you nuttin!" and with that, she thrust the heel of her free hand into his nose and leapt over him heading for the door.  
  
______________________________. Somewhere in the Bronx  
  
3:00 Am  
  
"The phantom."  
  
___________________________  
  
" Lissen you bastahds! I don't cahah how close ya came to bein seen! Dats yer own fault!" a young man yelled and swore at a bunch of thugs, who'd been shocked into a sulky silence.  
  
"Boss, Phantom.we saw her," one of the boys commented, briefly looking up at the yelling boy, presumably Phantom. His eyes were a cold gray color, and his silvery blond hair hung in dirty tangles to his shoulders. On his face was a jaggedly cut harlequin mask; from which he derived his name. He was at least 5'10, with narrow shoulders and a slender frame. He wasn't necessarily the brawniest. But speed and mind were weapons he had made feared throughout the city.  
  
"Wha.how did she look?" he questioned, caught slightly off guard.  
  
"She.she's coitanly grown.odda dan dat, she aint changed much," the startled boy finished.  
  
"Hm, good work.who was she with?" Phantom's sudden change of heart sent sighs of relief through the boys.  
  
"She was with Joisey an' Spot,"  
  
Ah.she's in Brooklyn. With him.  
  
The disgusted thought echoed in his brain as a plot formed from the ashes of the Manhattan lodging house.  
  
End Note: Okay, chapter three, up and running! Fudge covered newsies to anyone who has or does review! Extra thanks to my beta!  
  
"I wanna know" Phil Collins, 'I wanna know"  
  
"Goin down in flames" Three doors down "Goin down in flames"  
  
"The phantom" That's from a song in the musical "Phantom of the opera"  
  
Okay, stay tuned for the next super, sexy swingin' chapter! 


	4. It never mattered before

Out in the rain  
  
1897  
  
"You don't care."  
  
_____________________________  
  
Silver raced off down the streets, trying desperately to get away from him. This was crazy. Why was she running from him? That answer was easy. There was some strange aura he held in his control over everything that scared her. She ran for her life, and for once, there was nowhere else to go but home, and Brooklyn wasn't home. Queens was home.  
  
"Silvah! Silvah Hawkins you stop right dere, damn it girl!" Spot was once again chasing after her. She seethed at him with unending hatred for no apparent reason. And his constant search to find what lay below that beautiful façade seemed only to anger her more.  
  
Wait a sec.did I just call Silver beautiful.The idea bounced through his  
head and he slammed on the breaks, just watching her run.  
Naw.I was just searching for a word.that's it.  
  
And so, Spot watched her run. Kicking up dirt and angering the people around her. She ran into, shoved and cursed at anyone who seemed to be in her way. Images of her standing before the fire danced about his brain. The firelight glinted of her face and hair, seeming to make her glow like an angel.  
  
NO! A devil.  
  
"Spot.whatcha doin' pretendin' ta look so thoughtful?" Spot jerked his head up at the sudden sound, recognizing the voice immediately. It was Blink.  
  
"I'se just tryin' ta remembah' somethin'," He defended, looking up at Blink.  
  
"Wheahs Dutch?" The subject was changed and the two swapped selling stories as they made their way back to the lodging house. Spot was glad to get that wretched girl off his mind.  
  
(________________________)  
  
He walked, listening partly to Blink's and Dutch's stories. They'd picked up Dutchy at a diner and continued on, walking and talking all the while.  
  
'That way, she'll suffer more, you see?"  
  
"Who do we got signed as ass-ass-ins?" Phantom questioned his right hand man, a tall burly boy with black hair and eyes to rival the messy mop atop his head. His name was Shadow.  
  
"Well, dere's Moicy.Lynch.Lethal.and Murdah, I tink," he answered, ticking off the names on his four fingers. No one knew where he'd lost the tip of his pointer finger, but he was good with a knife and only the remaining four, so no one really wanted to.  
  
The assassins he had named were all dangerous in their own 'special' ways. Mercy, despite the nature of his name, was a sadist. Nothing made him happier than a good torture session. Lynch was the only female of the four. She killed quickly with neither consequence for conscience. Lethal was exactly that. He carried with him a chain that he had taken special time constructing. Legend was, he'd broken the tips off of nails and melted them into the metal. Murder lived for the hunt. It was his one and only pleasure. He was the only one of the four who chose to hunt his prey alone.  
  
"Well.bring em all heah, I wanna talk to em all. Y'hear?" Phantom commanded, lounging back on his crate throne.  
  
"You shoah you wanna brin' all da best assassins in here? At da same time?" the jackal would request, bringing a hand up to scratch the back of his thick muscular neck.  
  
"Shaddah, if I says I wan' assassins, I wan' assassins. If I says I wan' a hunned dollars, that's what I want," the leader replied waving his hand in a careless gesture.  
  
(_______________________)  
  
The gathered mercenaries stood well apart from each other, in opposite corners of the room. They all straightened as Phantom entered the room, Shadow at his back. Phantom had made himself out to be a cruel and dangerous person, he'd told stories of killing leaders.murdering innocent newsies for a penny or two and he was a well known rapist.  
  
"Lynch," he decided it best to address the female first "Murdah, Moicy, Lethal," each of them looked up as their name was called. Phantom looked each one up and down with calculating eyes.  
  
"Now, I called all a ya's heah foah a bet, a challenge per say," he clasped his hands together and smirked at them,  
  
"I gots a goil I need found. You bring 'er heah an' I'll pay ya a healthy sum,"  
  
"Find? I don't find people. I aint yoah delivery boy, Phantom," Lethal was the first to speak up, idly swinging his chain.  
  
"We're assassins," Lynch continued, closing her dark brown eyes and opening them again as if it made her see clearly.  
  
"Yes, yes. Dis is all good and well, but I need someone who'll be ruthless enough ta get ta her," Phantom issued the challenge, swaying the attention of everyone in the room.  
  
"You wanna kidnapping, call a kidnapper. I'm out," Murder murmured, striding towards the door.  
  
"Murdah? You'se chickenin' out on me?" Phantom called. Murder stopped.  
  
"Rude," Shadow said mockingly, looking up and grinning maniacally.  
  
"I'm no ones delivery boy," he repeated Lethal's words. His long black hair fell into his blue-green eyes and he shoved it away.  
  
"Well, dat may b'come a prah'lem," Phantom said standing.  
  
"Yours, not mine," Murder was refusing his every offer and shooting down his back up, so, Phantom resorted to threats.  
  
"Now listen heah' Murdah!" Phantom yelled, getting the attention of the other assassins.  
  
"If you r'fuse to do dis foah me, you'll be the next one I send em aftah! And dere wont be no deliverin'!" Murder brushed his sun-bleached, chin length bangs back in a thoughtful gesture.  
  
It was unheard of for an assassin to murder another. But they did sometimes serve as bounty hunters. And if Murder was going to be the object of the bounty he might rethink his secession.  
  
"It better be a damn big bounty," Murder warned. The others in the room shifted with relief. It was done.  
  
"Ah, good. Shaddah! Release da hounds!" Phantom called smirking that sadistic smile that he was famous for.  
  
This'll be easy.  
  
________________________________  
  
1897  
  
"Lonely the World is so Cold."  
  
_________________________________  
  
".She's weird," Blinks words floated through the lodging house as the newsies gathered for their nightly game of poker. Spot had told Blink and Dutchy the story of the bet and how Silver had run off without a word.  
  
"Yeah, one day Joisey just shows up wid her, didn't say nuttin about why she was heah.hey lissen.whadda ya say we carry a little bet?" an idea floated into Spot's head and he smiled.  
  
"Da foist one who gets her to talk to me gets the pot from dis game," eyebrows were raised and cards were dropped at the suggestion. No one was terribly fond of Silver, save for Books, but they didn't hate her. It was an odd bet at best, but it was appetizing. Some added a few more cents to the pot and they all went to bed plotting Silver's downfall.  
  
(_______________________________________)  
  
" 'Ey! Boy!" seeing a newsie she didn't know, now that was a welcome sight. She walked right up to the boy demanding to know where Jersey was.  
  
" 'E'll be down at da Dinah, missus, if he ain't dere he's at da lodgin' house.and if he aint dere, he's dead..and if he aint dead."  
  
"Okay, I gets it! Tanks!" Silver raced off to the diner, it was a feeling of extreme relief to be somewhere she knew.  
  
(____________________________________)  
  
The small bell on the door of Jack's restaurant rang as Silver rushed inside.  
  
No, I'se Emerald now!  
  
" 'Ey, Joisey, da broad da just rushed in looks kinda familiar," a brown haired boy remarked, shimmying into a both with another boy.  
  
"Shaddap Tremor, I've had jest about enough a' youah' tryin' ta fix me up," Jersey said, jamming a French fry in his mouth, without bothering to turn and look at the girl.  
  
"Suit y'self, She's pretty dough," Tremor teased, giving a low whistle.  
  
Upon hearing the whistle, Silver turned abruptly, hoping to see Jersey, but no. It was another boy who was clearly another newsie. Ignoring her instinct to yell something crude, she waved him over. He whispered something to his companion and stood, walking to her.  
  
"Can I help ya missus?" he questioned smiling.  
  
"Yes, can you tell me where I can find a newsie named Jersey? Is he still in Queens?" had Tremor's eyebrows risen anymore at the irony, they might've flown off his head. He held out a hand.  
  
"Yeah, he's heah.come wit me," he said leading her over to the booth. Jersey completely ignored the both of them.  
  
"Joisey, she's wants to talk to ya," Tremor said, trying not to sound incredulous.  
  
"I'll bet she does, Tremor," Jersey said sarcastically.  
  
"I do," Silver said grinning. Jersey's head snapped up and he looked at her in disbelief.  
  
"What are you doing here?" he whispered fiercely, grabbing her arm.  
  
"Oh, nice ta see you too," Silver spat indignantly.  
  
"No, I jest.I sent y ta Brooklyn ta keep yah safe, and then you come back here." emerald eyes stared down at his plate. This was crazy. She shouldn't have come back. They realized simultaneously that Tremor was still there.  
  
"Oh, Trem..dis is Silvah, she's a pal a' mine," he forced the words out and then grabbed a penny from his pocket.  
  
"Trem.get me a coke," Tremor was obviously oblivious to the rising tension.  
  
"You already gots a coke greedy," he accused, shaking his head.  
  
"Well, get me another one," the forced remark flew from between gritted teeth.  
  
"Aight, fine. Don't get all snippy," the boy trotted off to the bar and Silver slid into the booth.  
  
"I caint stay dere any more, Spot wants answers. You know he thinks I'se linked ta dem fiahs and Tragedy.he had a ting wid fiah." she went quiet and busied her self with running her chapped digits on the rim of her brothers hat, as she often did during nervous spells.  
  
"You caint tell im.?" it was an inquiry meant for him than her. She answered anyway.  
  
"Nah, he'd go super psycho and try to be all protective of me and den Dallas'd definitely figgur it out," she spoke Tragedy's real name and regretted it. A deep pit was forming in her stomach at merely the sound.  
  
"I tink youre kinda right dere.we need ta arrange a meetin' 'tween him an' me," the suggestion was made and both minds went to work brainstorming as Tremor made his way back to the table with a coke. A coke that Silver promptly stole.  
  
After a long swig of coke and a dramatized swallow, her eyes widened and a smirk inched onto her lips.  
  
"Pokah," the one word had tremendous meaning to any newsie in New York.or anywhere else for that matter.  
  
"Pokah." Jersey repeated the words and grinned.  
  
"Tamarrah night at da Queens lodgin' house, yeah," she nodded as the other two agreed with her plans. It was too perfect. Tremor thought she was simply an ambassador from someone working out plans for a meeting with Queens. Silver knocked her fist against the table twice and smiled at the boys.  
  
"Well, I'd best get goin'.and Joisey, don' worry, Brooklyn'll be dere," she stood and walked towards the door, jamming her hat down on her copper-brown locks and walking out the door. She walked down the street, whistling quietly to herself. Completely oblivious to the green eyes watching her from the shadows.  
  
(___________________________________________)  
  
Lethal knelt behind a stack of old crates, watching her as she walked. Phantom had spoken of her beauty, but he didn't say exactly how pretty she was. His chain was wrapped about his gloved hand and ready to lash out. This was the perfect opportunity to get her without anyone seeing! All he had to do was.  
  
"Lethal!" the whisper scared the hell out of him and he jumped, whirling around to glare up at none other than his fellow assassin, Mercy.  
  
"Damn ya.I was dis close!" he whispered back, looking back to Silver, only to find her gone.  
  
"Dat bitch is gonna be harder to catch dan I tought." he murmured.  
  
Alrighty, I've reformatted the whole story and hopefully its less confusing. -distributes fudge covered newsies to all her super, sexy swingin' reviewers- Thanks so much for your input! Keep ready and waiting for the next lil tidbit of madness!  
  
"You don't care." You're gone, Something Corporate. "Lonely the world is so cold." That's Prince, When Doves Cry. -does the high-pitched screech thing- 


	5. In which mass chaos ensues

_______________________________  
  
Out in the rain  
  
1879  
  
"Going nowhere"  
  
_________________________________  
  
"No one has nuttin' on Silvah?" Spot questioned the small group of newsies gathered about. This wasn't going as well as he had expected.  
  
"We asked everywhere, nobody knows a 'Silver'," an anonymous speaker called out.  
  
Of course not.that isn't her name.  
  
The thought struck him with force enough to make his head shoot up, Books looked questioningly at Spot raising a brow.  
  
"A'course dey don't, try lookin' undah Emerald." he said trailing as none other than Silver walked inside.  
  
"Pokah game, tamarrah, Queens," without so much as a look at anyone to signify she'd heard her name, she headed up to the roof to sort her thoughts.  
  
"Dat was odd," Books remarked, looking after her.  
  
"Well, who cares..Silvah's an odd poi'sen, now back to figgurin' her out." he continued hammering into the boys way after way to get her story. No one bothered to notice that Dutchy was missing.  
  
(________________________________)  
  
"So, you know a' anyone wid long bown 'air an' silvery eyes?" Dutchy questioned a small Asian girl who had her hand tucked behind her back.  
  
"Is her name Silvah' by any chance?" the girl questioned smirking at her luck.  
  
"Yeah.yeah that's her name!" Dutchy grinned, and the two swapped information about the girl, not enough, however, on her past.  
  
"Well, tanks..em.what's yoah name?" the inquiry was made and the girl shifted nervously.  
  
"Lynch, me names Lynch."  
  
(________________________________)  
  
As the sun was slowly beginning to rise, many people, with many purposes, were scattered about the city.  
  
Dutchy made his way to the distribution office, hands jammed into the pockets of his twill pants. He was constantly yawning, but it didn't seem to bother him, he just strutted along like he had just won the world in a game of poker. Silver was apparently linked, somehow, to the untimely death of Hawkins Logan. Well, if Jersey was clamming up, than any other newsie in Queens would spill.  
  
Lynch moved quickly and quietly towards the abandoned warehouse in the Bronx that held her fortune. She'd go to Brooklyn with Mercy that night, and on the way back, she'd kill the moron. He didn't stand a chance against her.  
  
"Mercy, Mercy, Mercy." she mumbled to herself, smiling.  
  
Lethal, who'd shaken off Mercy, walked alone hoping desperately that he'd stumble upon Silver again. Phantom had said he wanted her live, but not unharmed. He could just see himself tying that beautiful bounty up with his chain and. The thought of it made him shiver with ecstasy.  
  
"This will be something to enjoy," he continued down the street whistling.  
  
Mercy walked along with similar thoughts in his head. Torture didn't always have to be a bloody process. He'd be glad to throw her on her back and pound his love into her smooth flesh. He paused to close his eyes for a moment and savor the visual; her soft, naked body, trembling in fear and pain beneath him. It was amazing.it was art.  
  
Murder trudged along the streets of Brooklyn, debating whether or not to go through with it. She was, for all he knew, an innocent girl in a situation she couldn't escape. That notion had never ever bothered him before this moment. He'd gotten a tip off from a friend in the business of favors. He knew exactly where she was, but that didn't mean no one else knew. Every worthwhile assassin in New York was after her, he could save her life or take it. For once, knowing he held someone's fate in his hands ate at his brain.  
  
Spot paced the pier, thinking about silver. She was so hard to figure out, and she knew it. As the sun rose and his shadow got shorter, he wondered if his bet was getting anyone anywhere. Perhaps, if he buddied up to the girl.she might talk. If she trusted him, he might get something out of her.  
  
So, the six somewhat disgruntled souls made their way to their not-so- stable homes to rethink themselves in time for that evening.  
  
And as those creatures of the night retired, those of the day strutted into the sun, reeking of the childish arrogance that made them who they were. Prince and pauper alike roamed the streets, buying this and that, doing whatever they had to, to get through the day.  
  
"A hunned fiddy," Silver said quietly, grabbing the papers and walking off to find a spot that hadn't been taken over by Jack's boys. Nearly all the good spots had been taken over and.  
  
Her thoughts were interrupted by a hand on her shoulder. To her great dismay, her eyes traveling up his arm only found the same cruel glare she faced every day. It was Spot.  
  
"Can I 'elp ya?" she questioned, turning back to her papes.  
  
"Yeah, yoah sellin wit me t'day," he made the remark tightening his grip on her shoulder.  
  
"Nah, tanks.I'se a big goil. 'Haps you don't 'emembah, youah bruise is almost gone.I could give ya's anoddah one." she suggested, jerking away from his grasp.  
  
"Suit y'self," he said as if he was walking off with the better end of the deal. Spot knew he had to make friends with her.perhaps today wasn't the day for it.  
  
(____________________________________)  
  
Silver eventually found her spot, as far away from Spot as was possible. She stood hawking her headlines to kingdom come, but something was different, her usual aggressiveness was gone from her voice. Perhaps it was being in Queens and pausing for a moment on the corner where her life changed forever, or perhaps it was something else. Something, a bit more present. Perhaps.Spot?  
  
"Nah," she brushed the thought off, she hadn't let him bother her too much lately, and she wasn't going to start now. Silver was like a stone, she told herself.  
  
"Can I get a pape missus?" someone questioned, breaking through the mist of her thoughts. She had unfortunately only just sold her last one.  
  
"Sorry mistah, I'se all out," she looked up at him, he was tall and had black hair and blue-green eyes. The odd thing about him though, was that the front parts of his hair looked blonde. It was terribly odd.  
  
"I could take ya ta someone who still gots em dough." she trailed squinting up in the sun.  
  
"Would ya do dat missus?" he questioned as she took notice of his clothing. Black slacks and a black dress shirt with rolled up sleeves. He was definitely an odd sort.  
  
"Anyting foah a customer," she walked off and motioned for him to follow. They walked along the sunny streets and as she was leading him through an alley, he made his move.  
  
"Emerald, stop," he made the command gently as he grabbed her wrist.  
  
"'Scuse me sir, but I aint no Emerald, em, sir, lemme go," she began to struggle as he lead her off in another direction.  
  
"Not likely," he murmured, dragging her on.  
  
"Damnit what da hell is this? Who ah' you?" she questioned, trying desperately to yank her arm away from him.  
  
"Well, if you really wanna know, me names Moidah."  
  
(_______________________________________)  
  
"Damnit, Books.we caint wait all night!" Spot ranted, pacing in front of the door, surrounded by Brooklyn [newsies] who ll seemed ready to go.  
  
"She prolly ran off somewhere, she didn't seem to happy about the pokah match in da foist place," Blink suggested getting nods of approval.  
  
"Its settled den, Books weah leavin'." and with that, he headed out the door, leading an army of rowdies behind him. Books followed..eventually.  
  
(_________________________________________)  
  
"Why ah you doin' dis? Who sentcha?" Silver asked quietly, she'd given up on struggling and simply let him lead.  
  
"I don't tink you'se hoid of him, and 'sides, I aint gotta choice. Its you oah its me kid," he sounded genuinely upset. And Silver, being as perceptive as she was, chose this time to aim her toes right to the back of his shin. Sending them both sprawling. Him because he'd been kicked, and her because he was holding so tightly. Unfortunately, he stumbled to his feet first, placing the heel of his boot on her neck. By applying enough force, he could collapse her windpipe, suffocating her. And Silver knew this.  
  
"Damnit I don't wanna be heah, and especially not witchoo!" he yelled down at her. She felt the tears welling up in her eyes, but she wouldn't let him see her cry, no one saw her cry.  
  
"I'm a fucking assassin! Don't you get that?" he ranted on, no caring if people heard him. They were in an alley, in a rather deserted part of town, so that wasn't likely.  
  
"I should kill you right now! I'se told ya me name which is the foist mistake.If I don't bring you back to Phantom, he'll kill me!" he lifted his foot and closed his eyes for a brief moment.  
  
"Get up," he commanded, yanking her to her feet and latching back onto her arm.  
  
"So, its my life for yours," she said looking down at her shoes.  
  
"I'm an assassin kid, Its what I do."  
  
Otay, that was eventful!! I would like to take a moment and thank all my super snazzy reviewers who are keeping track of my progress! Murder really freaked out on her didn't he? Well, c'mon, he's the bad guy (Sorta.) he needs a tough side in there somewhere!  
  
"Going nowhere" Young and Hopeless, Good Charlotte  
  
Oh, you guys remember Lethal? (Horny lil fart isn't he?) I must credit the chain idea to Charles Lupla. Or there will be scary looking men appearing at my door.  
  
Don't touch that dial! We'll be right back.....  
  
By the way, keep an eye out for another story by me. It's coming up! 


	6. It started to rain

_________________________________  
  
Caught in the rain  
  
1897  
  
"Don't stay up and wait for me"  
  
______________________________________  
  
"An assassin? Oh, now I c'n relax," she didn't bother struggling anymore. He was obviously much stronger than her.  
  
"Don't worry, I'm not gonna kill you," he said sending a glance back at her.  
  
"Well, dat makes it all okay, wanna be friends?" the sarcasm dripped from her every word as she walked along. His eyes narrowed but he tried to remain patient with her. She was being lead to the slaughter and God knows what else, besides, he didn't like the assignment to begin with.  
  
"Dere's a pokah game tonight in Queens," she said as if she was getting at something.  
  
"Well, we should go," now it was his turn to be sarcastic.  
  
"They're expecting me. I'll be missed."  
  
________________________________________  
  
1897  
  
"Gone"  
  
__________________________________  
  
"Ah, Spot, nice of you ta show up," Jersey greeted Brooklyn as they filed into the lodging house.  
  
"Aint my fault we're late, blame it on your girl Silver," Spot glared at the mere mention of her name.  
  
"You- you didn't bring her?" Jerseys brow creased and he glanced to the side.  
  
"Well, she wasn't there when we left, and she was the one who told us about it, we just left wid out her," Spot started off only to have Jersey grab his shoulders and yank him back. Spot was a feared fighter because it was said he picked three or four fights before his feet hit the floor in the morning. Jersey could fight, he just.didn't.  
  
"Spot, I tink its time to talk about Silvah's past," Spots eyes widened a bit at the suggestion.  
  
"Books, staht the game," Books trotted off while Spot and Jersey made for the roof.  
  
______________________________  
  
1897  
  
"If it makes you happy, it cant be that bad."  
  
___________________________  
  
"Lissen, why are you doing this to me? Who sent you?" Silver struck up the conversation again, much to Murder's dismay.  
  
"I'se doin dis because If I don't, I'll be the one they're sending assassins after," Silver dug her feet into the ground.  
  
"Who?" Murder paused and shook his head.  
  
"Phantom," fully ready to head the name Tragedy spill from his lips, she was genuinely disappointed.  
  
"If you have ta live like dat, why doncha leave?" she questioned thinking of her own runaway experiences.  
  
"You caint run forever. Someone always finds you," Murder took this moment to look at her, really look at her. She was apparently scared out of her skin and trying desperately to hide it. He softened his grip on her arm and prayed she didn't notice. She did.  
  
"Moidah!" A yell came from down the alley. Silver turned abruptly towards the sound. She saw a boy running towards them, he had blonde hair and pale green eyes, but the most noticeable thing about him was the chain looped through one of his belt loops. He wore long black slacks and a gray wife beater.  
  
"Lethal? What ah' you doin' here?" Murder questioned calmly, retightening his grip on his bounty.  
  
"By da muddah Mary.is dat her?" Lethal ignored the question striding towards Silver and brushing a hand across her cheek. She let out a cry and jerked forward, biting his arm. "Bitch!" he yelled, bringing back a fist to pummel her. Luckily, Murder pulled her out of his reach.  
  
"She's s'posed to be 'live remember?" Murder gave a small tug on her arm, telling her she'd been lucky.  
  
"Yeah, but not unharmed, he nevah said we couldn't beat her around a bit," He murmured suggestively, taking a step towards the pair.  
  
"Are you suggesting we beat her up?" Murder frowned as more and more fear crept into those Silvery orbs.  
  
"Well, we don't gotta beat her.we could.ya know." Golden brows were raised, and against her will, Silver shrank back against Murder.  
  
"Thanks for reminding me why I'm more the mercenary type," he turned, ready to haul her off.  
  
"Ah Moidah, you know Phantom likes his meat tender," Murder turned back, taking Silver with him.  
  
"Yeah, well, I aint no ones meat," it was a feeble attempt to rid herself from fear, but it made her feel better. Murder pulled her back against him.  
  
"Moidah..don't.don't tell me youah goin soft," Lethal shook his head and laughed bitterly.  
  
"The famous, consciousless Moidah.going soft foah one pathetic pair of doe eyes,"  
  
"Don't move, don't breathe, don't run," Murder whispered to Silver. He then, without warning, punched Lethal square in the jaw. He then knelt down to grab his beloved chain.  
  
"Does this mean you're letting me go?" Silver cocked her head to one side.  
  
"No, this means Lethal wont get there first and get me killed,"  
  
____________________________________  
  
1897  
  
"I can still feel you here,"  
  
________________________________  
  
"Well," Spot questioned impatiently as the two clambered onto the roof. "Dis is da whole story,[1] Silver was born Leah Ryan, sister to Taylor Ryan. Later christened Emerald and Hawkins Logan. Logan was Taylor's middle name, and back then no one gave much information. They lived in the Queens burrow, under Switch.  
  
"Switches brother Tragedy was power hungry.and Leah hungry. So there was a fight between he and Taylor for leadership. Taylor, of course, lost. Tragedy killed him, and that isn't in the rules. So they ran him out of the city. But he's come back to power, The Bronx, we think. We also think he's behind all these fires. He was looking for her, we figured. So, he sent out assassins, you heard about them.didn't you?" Jersey paused to breathe.  
  
"Yeah, I hoid," Spot had been right.sort of.  
  
"Well, we think that's where she is,"  
  
"We gotta go find her.we cant leave her out there.she'll get hurt!" Spot paused,  
  
"Jesus H. What am I sayin' dis is all her fault!" Jersey smiled.  
  
"What, the all powerful Spot cant affort a soft spot!" Jersey chided, standing.  
  
"I c'n have a spot.just not for her," Spot also stood.  
  
"Admit it! You care for her!" Jersey had struck a nerve and he knew it. Spot had always had strong, passionate feelings for Silver. Everyone, including Spot and Silver, had accepted the feelings for hatred. Jersey knew better.  
  
"You don't just tolerate her for that long! You care Spot, just say it!" the yes or no question ran through Spots brain, accompanied by flashbacks. His birthday.the fire.the first he'd seen her.even their fight on the roof.  
  
"I do care," he involuntarily voiced his opinion, and said it more to himself.  
  
"You do realize you said that out loud.right?" Spot clapped a hand over his mouth.  
  
"Shit." he murmured through his fingers.  
  
"You can stand against pretty much anything, but you aint the sharpest knife in the box, you've liked her for a while now, being nicer to her, letting her off easy." Jersey listed things on his fingers.  
  
____________________________________  
  
1897  
  
"She grabs the gun"  
  
___________________________  
  
"Moicy, I'se really sorry," the breathless whisper drifted through the silent streets of Brooklyn as two black clad figures exited the lodging house. Lynch and Mercy had come to the house expecting to find Silver sleeping, but alas, it was not the case. So they walked along silently, save for that quiet murmur. Lynch's hand slid slowly into her pocket and those slender digits caressed the metal of the pistol she carried. The sun had only just set and it was an almost eerie picture the two presented. Walking alone, both with one hand in their pocket.  
  
"I really am sorry," she said again, quietly.  
  
"I know, it's alright," Mercy shook off the apology.  
  
"Is it?" she slowly began to draw the pistol from her pocket. Lynch paused and pointed the gun.  
  
"Yeah, hey Lynch?" he slowly began to turn, it was too perfect.  
  
"Yeah?" Without warning, a knife flew from between his finger tips.  
  
The scene greeting newsies the next morning would be a gruesome one. A small Asian girl, sprawled out in front of the lodging house, a knife embedded in her chest. Her wide slanted eyes were like empty pools, opened their widest. And as Mercy walked off into the dark.  
  
It began to rain.  
  
Well? Spot finally came to his senses, didn't he? * giddy * I know this chappy was kinda short.but, quality over quantity and you KNOW you all wanted him to like her! I'm not kidding, keep looking for that other story.  
  
[1] I'll be putting a prologue out soon!  
  
"Don't stay up and wait for me" The call- BSB  
  
"Gone" Gone- Nsync  
  
"If it makes you happy, it cant be that bad" If it makes you happy- Sheryl Crow  
  
"I can sill feel you here" Goodbye- Spice Girls * giggles at the cornyness*  
  
" She grabs the gun" Never again- Nickelback 


	7. Back to the beginnning

_______________________  
  
Caught in the rain  
  
1897  
  
"Either way..."  
  
______________________________  
  
"Why didn't you just let him have me?" Silver questioned Murder as he shoved her along.  
  
"Because, there's money involved," the reply came back three times meaner.  
  
"So you're doing this for money? What, someone wants a cheap whore and I just got lucky?"  
  
"No, I almost gave Lethal a concussion because of the money, I'm giving you to Phantom because he specifically asked for you, that and to save my own ass," this, Silver pondered for a few moments.  
  
"So you're not only mean, but you're pathetic too?" Murder stopped, his fingertips digging into her forearm. She winced, but glared right back into those crystal blue pits.  
  
"Listen, if I don't give you up, I'm dead. If I hadn't punched out Lethal, I'd be dead. The only way too keep me alive is to turn you in!" he began dragging her along again and suddenly, it started to rain.  
  
"Well, your life seems pointless. Perhaps you should just die."  
  
__________________________  
  
1897  
  
"Find my baby"  
  
__________________________  
  
"So, we're going to the Bronx?" Books questioned, tugging on a pair of boots.  
  
"Yeah. Now," Spot and Jersey were already out the door.  
  
The two walked briskly along, neither saying anything. It was dark out and rain had begun to fall. It was desperately ignored.  
  
"Spot, if she's hurt, you know I'm gonna kill you right?" Jersey said splashing through a puddle.  
  
"Ah, c'mon, we shared a moment back dere on the roof," it was a sad attempt at humor, but it worked for the moment.  
  
An hour or so later, they reached the Bronx. "Books, We're goin' in.... Books? Where we goin?"  
  
__________________  
  
1897  
  
"The end... we know it"  
  
______________________________  
  
Silver had begun to hum something as they walked along the narrow streets of the Bronx. It was a beautiful song, whatever it was. Murder had brushed off her last comment, but she knew she had gotten somewhere. They came upon an old wear house and he tugged her inside.  
  
"We're here," he said simply to amplify the obvious.  
  
"Oh, joy," the sarcasm was put forth to hide her fear, but Murder wasn't fooled.  
  
"Scared?" the question was meant to humiliate, he knew she was petrified. And being back to his normal demeanor, he really didn't care.  
  
"No?" the remark was made defiantly.  
  
"Just wait, you will be... Phantom!" he yelled into the dimness, and lights began to switch on everywhere. There, as usual, sat Phantom and Shadow at the front of the room, looking lazily forward. This time, however, they were joined by a third, Mercy.  
  
"Murder, lovely work," Silver went rigid, it was that same voice...it was Phantom indeed, but it was someone else, it was Tragedy.  
  
"Emerald, my sweet, so glad you decided to join us," He stood walking over to her, she began to thrash violently at her captor, but Murder held fast.  
  
"Let me go you selfish bastard!" she roared and screamed, arms and legs flailing everywhere.  
  
"Murder, contain her!" Murder let one arm creep from her arm to his pocket, from which he pulled a knife. With movements like lightning, he drew it across her throat, leaving a cut just deep enough to cause pain. Silver sucked in her breath, but otherwise, kept still.  
  
"You killed him," Silver spat accusingly.  
  
"He had something I wanted, two things actually. I now have both of them. I'm leader of the Bronx as you know, but I've always missed the queen at my side,"  
  
"I would rather die a thousand deaths," Silver jutted out her chin and stood straight.  
  
"That can be arranged!"  
  
____________________________  
  
1897  
  
"Where you are"  
  
__________________________  
  
"So, how exactly do you know where this place is?" Spot questioned Books, who now seemed to be leading the way.  
  
"We had territory wars, this was their base, we knew it was here, but we didn't tell them that," Books said, shoving a rusted piece of sheet metal that served as a door to the side.  
  
The second the trio was bathed in the light of the room, they dropped to the floor. Each one was trying to slow his breathing, and make themselves smaller. Spot cringed as he saw Silver flinch. The supposed leader of this nasty little operation had drawn his hand across her throat. As he lifted it, Spot could clearly see blood on his fingertips. Each one was so involved in her, no one noticed Lethal slip inside.  
  
"SPIES!" he yelled. Newsies upon newsies came up from crevices in which they had been hiding until now, searching for those committing espionage. Silver watched, her eyes wide with concern for her comrades. They had only wanted to help her, and now they might get themselves killed. Two rather large boys took hold of the trio and more surrounded them.  
  
"Tryin' ta cheat us Moida?" Lethal called as the chaos dimmed and our heroes were pulled to the center of the room.  
  
"Cheat you? I brought her here," Murder yelled in his defense. They thought the three stooges were with him.  
  
"Yeah, but you let these morons follow you," Phantom remarked, shaking his head.  
  
"I didn't let them follow me! They came on their own! What we have is apparently valuable to them!"  
  
"You don't have me!" Silver spat, glaring up at Murder who still held her in his steadfast grip. "If you hoit her..." Spot trailed, trying to stretch his torso a bit more, only to be kicked in the newly enlarged target. Phantom just laughed.  
  
"You did a really dumb ting just den..." Phantom remarked, pulling a gun from his pocket.  
  
"Oh really?" Spots arrogance would one day be his downfall, Dice had often told his little brother. [1] Spot had ignored him then, and was still going strong.  
  
"You've let us in on your weak spot," Silver's eyes widened, and she backed, subconsciously, back against Murder. He noticed the new closeness. "It - it doesn't matter, he doesn't care about me!" Silver cried out in attempt to save them some time.  
  
"Bullshit..." Lethal said, suddenly realizing his chain had disappeared.  
  
"That bitch! She stole me chain!" The blonde shot forward and no one, aside from the three new captives, made a move to stop them. Murder was debating whom to save once again. He eventually, after Lethal had gotten in a few punches, shoved her out of the way. Mercy scrambled to restrain her, and Lethal looked rather dumbfounded. Again.  
  
"It aint on her Lethal, we left you just as you was!" Lethal narrowed his eyes and tensions in the room rose.  
  
"Yeah, laid out," he remarked.  
  
"Yeah, you wanna explain dat?" Phantom spoke up, waving his gun lazily.  
  
"Hey, you said there was money, dincha? I wasn't givin' her up to him," it was the most logical thing he could come up with. "Speakin' ah layin people out - where's Lynch?" Lethal questioned. Phantom shrugged and looked to Mercy, who spoke. "I t'ink yoah boys'll find a nice lil gift on dere doorstep when dey get back to Brooklyn,"  
  
"So she's dead?" Murder swallowed deeply and made the inquiry, already aware of the answer.  
  
"Very."  
  
_________________________  
  
1897  
  
"No one knows"  
  
______________________________  
  
The newsboys from all around New York had gathered in the Queens lodging house, tables had been pushed out of the way and in their place sat circle upon circle of boys. Yelling out bets, tossing cards, sweeping freshly earned pennies towards themselves. No one had the slightest idea what was going on outside of Queens.  
  
"Ey, Blink?" Dutchy had called, tossing another penny on the pile.  
  
"Yeah?" Blink responded, changing the order of his cards. "Y'ain't seen Spot anywheahs has ya?"  
  
"Huh uh," neither boy gave it further thought. He was probably upstairs with some whore he'd found wondering the streets. Books was probably elsewhere reading. He never liked poker games. Jersey was - somewhere. He was never no-where, always somewhere.  
  
No one knew that Spot had fallen in love with the person he still hated. No one knew that Silver, Spot, Jersey, and Books had been captured. No one knew that Tragedy had resurfaced. No one knew that there was a dead girl on the front steps of the Brooklyn lodging house, or that Murder did actually have Lethal's chain, or that Silver of Brooklyn was actually Emerald of Queens. They were, perhaps, better off that way.  
  
In truth, had the newsboys in Queens known that at that moment that the outlaw of the newsie world held captive one of the most important newsies in New York, they would have definitely gone after him. But no one knew where Spot was. It wasn't like him to hide from the public eye; it just wasn't something he did.  
  
But the newsboys were having a wonderful time drinking, smoking, and yelling. They were a boisterous bunch. No one noticed an absence when others surrounded one. No one knew.  
  
___________________________  
  
1987  
  
"Tonight"  
  
__________________________  
  
"Well, take the boys... elsewhere, lock them up," Phantom commanded two of the burly boys that surrounded the trio. "Ba - boss?" Murder hated using the word, especially for Phantom. "Give her here!" Murder shoved Silver with all his might into Phantom's open arms. He clasped on large hand about her throat to stop her struggling. "Go an' do what you do," Murder wouldn't stand for this, he'd given up on her, and he wanted his bounty.  
  
"My payment?" he questioned, sheathing his knife and holding a hand forward.  
  
"Your life," with that, he turned, sending two well placed bullets into the chests of Lethal and Mercy.  
  
"Get out," he said, leading Silver off in a strangling hold.  
  
__________________________  
  
1897  
  
"I wanna blow you... away"  
  
_______________________________  
  
"It's been a long time Leah," Phantom remarked, bending down to lock the door of what Silver suspected was an office. It had one large window that overlooked the whole factory, other than that; there was only a door and a narrow staircase serving as an exit. "You ain't got no right ta call me dat Tragedy," she spat as she glared at him from against a wall. Her eyes were narrow aside from the gash on her neck, and the bruises forming on her cheek from the beating Lethal had given her.  
  
"You're the prisoner, I'm the warden, I get to call you what I please," he remarked, walking towards her. "Don't you touch me you slimy-" her cut her off with a kiss, placing an arm on either side of her. She struggled violently, but he'd gotten bigger, and his weight kept her still. He slowly pulled back and smirked at her.  
  
"Well, you certainly haven't changed, you've got the same fire you've always had,"  
  
"Don't touch me," she forced once again through gritted teeth. Phantom merely chuckled and looked deeply into her eyes.  
  
"Like I said before, I get to play warden," suddenly, his twisted plan popped into her head. It had nothing to do with the leadership or the territory. It was about Silver.  
  
"You never cared about being leader did you? It was all about me," he grinned, backing away and shoving her to the floor, roughly.  
  
"You're terribly bright, but not completely right, I did want da leadership, but I wanted you more. You, above all things, are the prize.  
  
_____________________  
  
1897  
  
"The boys are back in town"  
  
_____________________  
  
Newsie upon newsie sat listening to Kid Blink go on and on about how Spot, Books, and Jersey had been gone all night. "- Silvah didn't even show up! How da hell ah we gonna keep ties from burrow ta burrow wit' two whole leadahs missin'?"  
  
"What if they toin out like da Bronx? Oah Coney?" came a yell from the back of the room. Any answering was lost in a firestorm of 'what ifs' and 'they wouldn't do that' People were nervous and tense, and then the fights broke out. Boys of all sizes were scrambling and punching at air. When they did strike something, it was always just a glance. "I'm beginnin' ta t'ink you guys don't trust Dice's little bruddah," a loud voice came from the back of the room, by the door. Suddenly, the fights started to diminish and then stop completely. Two males strode out of the rain and to the front of the room. One had stringy black hair and cold blue eyes reminiscent of someone else. The other had curly brown hair in a shag. But there was something odd about him; he had one blue eye and one brown.  
  
"Nice job kid, [2] way ta rile everybody up, now siddown," The speaking male shoved him into a chair.  
  
"You bummahs! What da hell's goin on?" the more aggressive of the two made the question obviously rhetorical. He companion made a small gesture with his hands.  
  
"You take all the fun outta me job Dice, really ya do," A murmur went through the crowd. Dice? He was the mute brother of Spot Conlon. He and Books had been the exact combination of brains and brawn to lead Brooklyn for a good six years. "Since my pal here, da bummah, suggests we - or I introduce us, I will. Me names Switch, and dis is Dice."  
  
HA HA! You KNEW they'd be BACK! * laughs evilly *  
  
[1] I mean with the aid of Books, of course.  
  
[2] He was addressing him as 'kid' as in someone younger, not as in 'Kid Blink'  
  
'Either way' Never Ever- All saints  
  
'Find my baby' Find my baby- Moby  
  
"The end?s we know it' It's the end of the world as we know it- R.E.M.  
  
"Where you are" Where you are- Jess Simpson  
  
"No one knows' Changes- Three Doors Down  
  
"Tonight" 2 become 1- Spice girls *Giggles at the cheesiness once again*  
  
"I wanna blow you?way"- Angry Jonny- I think its by 'Garbage'  
  
"The boys are back in town" The boys are back in town- I'm saying its from 'a knights tale' (Heath ledger! *swoon*) because I really have no idea who its by.  
  
Stay with me m'lambs! There'll be more if I can ever get my access #'s to work. 


	8. The hurt, the pain, the dirt, the rain

___________________  
  
Caught in the rain  
  
1897  
  
"You make me sick"  
  
____________________  
  
The rain came harder and harder. It was like thousands and thousands of small crystal bullets flying out of the metal blue gun that was the sky. The streets were empty. Anyone would have to be crazy to venture out in such a torrent. The wind had come up too, it could be described as a gale as it howled and whistled into the cracked and shattered windows of the Bronx Base.  
  
Down in the basement, however, it might as well have been a sunny summer dawn. Spot, Jersey, and Books sat handcuffed to a pipe going along the wall. A short but brawny guy sat in a chair by the door holding a large sledgehammer, imbedded in the handle of which, were three railroad stakes that showed one where to place his hands. Around his waist was a chain, though not used as a weapon it was rather intimidating; even as a belt. The boy had tan hair that always seemed to be falling into his eyes, but unfortunately, those eyes never seemed to want to close.  
  
"What's yogh name?" Books began, shoving his glasses up on the bridge of his nose with his free hand. This sudden question shattered the tension and seemed to surprise even Books him self.  
  
" B. S." he answered thoughtfully. Spot chuckled while Jersey and Books exchanged odd glances.  
  
"Like.as in bullshit?" Spot asked. The three burst into laughter despite their situation, which was so utterly depressing, they would have found a corpse entertaining.  
  
"No, as in Black smith. See the hammer?" a toned arm was raised and the hammer was clearly visible now.as opposed to when it was merely visible.  
  
"Oh.so how'd ya get mixed in wid dat slime bag?" Books was keeping the atmosphere nothing more than tolerable, otherwise they would become crazy with worry over what was happening to Silver.  
  
________________________  
  
1894  
  
"One bullet in his head"  
  
________________________  
  
He walked self assuredly, smiling to himself. The world.or at least New York was his for the taking. Territory wars has ended in a stalemate, neither side actually winning. The boy turned a corner and paused for a moment to squint up at the moon. He shoved his tan hair out of his eyes blue eyes and turned back the way he had come, suddenly hearing his name.  
  
"Titan! Titan wait!" well, that settled it. His little brother had followed him. Titan Smith's little brother Blake had always wanted to know what it was like to meet another territory leader, and that was where Titan was headed.  
  
"Titan Smith.you ol' shit, yer late," A wiry boy was leaning against a light post, chuckling at Titan.  
  
"Keep yer mouth clean Phantom, me bruddah's on his way,"  
  
"Yer bruddah's jest as old as I is, he can hear this. An' don't tell me what t' do, I'se da leadah a' west Bronx.I'se a big boy,"  
  
"Figuratively," Titan teased as the footsteps came into hearing distance.  
  
"You bastahd," Phantom said rolling his eyes.  
  
"Keep yoah mouf sh-" he never got to finish the sentence. Titan fell to the ground, a bullet cleanly placed in his forehead. Phantom threw the gun out of sight and let out a bloodcurdling scream as Blake ran up to the scene.  
  
"Trey!" the little boy shrieked, falling to his knees.  
  
"Blake.I jest saw da moiderah run off." he said through calculated wheezes. The Phantom had been planning this scheme for ages.  
  
"Didja see who?" Blake shot up into a standing position.  
  
"I didn't see him too clear..."  
  
"Tell me!" Blake screamed into the night.  
  
"I saw him.it was.some guy I recognized.from Queens."  
  
____________________  
  
1897  
  
"When I get you alone."  
  
_________________________________  
  
"C'mon Silver.you don't wanna make me mad," Phantom warned. He and Silver were still in the same room, in the same position. She'd been pressed against the wall and nothing seemed to be able to break his hold on her. Phantom leant in and pressed his lips to hers. The strategy was to be completely still. Neither movement nor reaction would she grant that beast. He'd been trying to get some sort of response from her for over a half hour, and it had become frustrating.  
  
His slender hand moved ever so slowly from the top of her arm, grazing gently against her breast on the way, to the nape of her neck. Those calloused digits combed upward through the silky strands until they reached the crown of her head. Here, he balled his hand into a fist, pulling painfully on her hair. She let out a scream of pain, muffled by his lips. He smiled against her mouth and slid his tongue into the now open space, exploring its depths. He continued to yank on her hair until she could bear it no more. She let her hands involuntarily slide up around his neck, and let her mouth mold to his.  
  
"Good," he pulled away abruptly, "you've just learned a lesson," he turned sharply and headed for the door, leaving Silver to fall into a sobbing heap on the cold floor. All she could do was cry, and cry she did. Slowly and surely, she drifted into a restless sleep.  
  
__________________________  
  
1897  
  
"I am the money."  
  
_____________________________  
  
"The Switch?" someone called out. Switch nudged Dice and grinned.  
  
"Told ye I was famous," he said. He then cleared his throat.  
  
"You bummahs, how did you lose one a' da most impoitant newsies in New Yawk?" heads turned to look around for an assumed culprit.  
  
"We didn't lose em. Dey ran away," Kid Blink stated firmly, standing up. Dice looked appalled.  
  
"Dey ran away? You tink Spot Conlon ran away on poker night?" Switch questioned incredulously.  
  
"Wait just a damned second? How did you know dey was gone?" Dutchy asked, taking a step forward.  
  
"We're newsies," he remarked as if that explained it all. "And we've been standing outside for the last half hour,"  
  
"Well den Swtich, whadda ya suggest we do?" came a yell from the back of the room.  
  
"Well, duh. We look."  
  
______________________  
  
1894  
  
"A likely story"  
  
__________________________  
  
"Well?" Blake asked again as Phantom 'calmed' himself.  
  
"I tink.I tink his name was Switch." Phantom said, casting his eyes to the side and suppressing a smirk as he caught the glint of the gun, laying in the darkness.  
  
"Ain't dat."  
  
"Yeah," Phantom interrupted Blake before he got the question out.  
  
"I'll kill 'im, an' I'll make sure dat no one evah leads Queens again!" Blake yelled into the night. At age 14, Blake "B.S." Smith had sold his soul to the devil. And there was nothing anyone could do about it.  
  
______________________  
  
1894  
  
"The way that he makes you cry"  
  
________________________  
  
"Someone's going to save me, sooner or later, I'll be found," Silver spat as Phantom entered the room. He shook off her glare and knelt in front of her.  
  
"No one is going to find you, no one wants to waste time on what you are now. And its coitan dat no one'll want you when I'm done witcha,"  
  
"What exactly do ya plan on doing to me?" For the first time, a glimmer of fear appeared in her steely eyes. He was obviously mad [1]. There was absolutely no telling what he would do.  
  
"I plan on taming you, because you need taming. So did your brother," Silver bolted up at him, but she hadn't been fed in the last twenty-four hours, and was weak. He shoved her back and she contented herself with screaming at him.  
  
"Don't you ever mention my brother! You aint got the right!" she screeched. She was definitely not ready for his hand to come down on her the way it did; hard skin exploding against soft in an agonizing crack that seemed to echo in the silence.  
  
"What did I tell you about givin' commands?" Phantom glared down at her. She was beaten definitely, but not broken by any means.  
  
"You may do what you please wid me. Beat me, rape me, even kill me, but don't talk about my brother," she seethed. He looked as if he would slap her again, but such was not the case. Instead of hurting her physically, he worked on her mental state, by leaning down and pressing his lips against hers. His moist tiers drinking for her chapped, bloody ones. When he pulled back, neither said anything. The only sounds were two rasping breathes, hers weak, his exhilarated.  
  
"I think you're beginning to enjoy this," Phantom said. He stood, chuckled, and turned to leave.  
  
"You're going to kill me," Silver whispered. It was an ambiguous statement.  
  
"Am I?" Phantom questioned turning.  
  
"You can kill me, or I can kill me. Its your choice," she continued, closing her eyes and wincing as he walked back towards her and bent down.  
  
"I wouldn't kill you." Phantom said shaking his head.  
  
"I'd kill Spot and those other jackasses, but not you. Never you," he spoke on, placing a hand on her cheek.  
  
"You can kill me, or I can kill me. Either way, it doesn't matter anymore," Silver shook his hand off and coughed. Phantom shook his head and smirked, he then licked her cheek, drawing his tongue across the bruised skin with eerie gentleness.  
  
"Not you. Never you," he stood, and left.  
  
____________________________  
  
1897  
  
"We're not gonna take it,"  
  
______________________________  
  
"Where do we look?" Dutchy questioned the two who had just taken over.  
  
"We look where th' emeny lies.sum one fammus said that," Switch answered.  
  
"Where's dat," Blink asked, running through the enemies he had.  
  
"Dat's da Bronx of course."  
  
Okay! I know you've been waiting for this one. I've been gone for weeks and.yeah. So, sit back and wait s'more. Hopefully the next 'un will be out sooner!  
  
[1] I mean 'mad' as in 'crazy'  
  
"you make me sick" you make me sick- Pink  
  
"One bullet in his head" Sarah Yellin'- Three Doors Down  
  
"When I get you alone" When I get you alone- Thicke  
  
"I am the money" I am the money- NA  
  
"The way he makes you cry" Pretty Girl- Sugar Cult  
  
"A likely story" Spider webs- No doubt  
  
"We're not gonna take it" We're not gonna take it- Twisted sister 


	9. Going through the motions

_____________________________  
  
Caught in the rain  
  
1897  
  
"Don't take the girl"  
  
_________________________  
  
"Hey, B.S. what is he gonna do with her?" Spot questioned after a short period of silence in the room.  
  
"I don't know. He's a real shady guy,"  
  
"Yeah, no kidding,"  
  
"Hey, I told ya my story, that don't make us friends. He brought me up.I'm loyal,"  
  
"Splendid," Books murmured. "Not only does he have Silver.but now he's got minions too."  
  
_____________________  
  
1897  
  
"It's like an.army marching in back of me,"  
  
___________________  
  
"Okay, so you with the green suspenders.round up some weapons.all da rest of ya, get ready for battle!" Switch had long since taken over the lodging house, an abandoned hotel, where the poker game was taking place.  
  
"Wait a second General Lee, do you really think we need all dis stuff?" Blink intervened.  
  
" Ah' course! Dis is a war!" Switch replied. They weren't going up against just any territory. The Bronx would be out numbered, but the other territories were inexperienced, unknowledgeable of the territory, and nowhere near as ruthless.  
  
"Well.we're trusting you to get back Spot," Dutchy warned. Dice stood and flicked him on the nose before walking down the steps to organize 'troops'  
  
_________________________  
  
1897  
  
'Should have stayed at home.'  
  
____________________________  
  
"Damn..It's really rainin' out there.but of course, you bummah's wouldn't know dat. Seein' as how you idiots went out searching for what's rightfully mine.and you screwed up. I would have had you killed.I still might," Phantom was parading about in front of his new prisoners. B.S. had left for a break. Soon, a new newsie entered the room, he was tall and thin, asian looking too.  
  
"Ah, well, seeing as how your new guard has arrived, I'm going to go..uh..you know.visit Silver," and with that he left. The asian boy sat down and Jersey realized that there was something funny about him.  
  
"My God." he whispered, pointing out the oddness to his companions. The boy had no ears. They looked as though they had been savagely cut off. He turned to the three prisoners and held up a hand, noting their fright.  
  
"Oh! He signs!" Books began to recite what he was reading.  
  
"The phantom did this to me.he cut out my tongue too. I was one of his newsies and heard of his plot to kill someone, he found me and made sure that I would never tell anyone what I had heard, or eavesdrop again. My names Alex.call me Mime," a crease made it's way onto Books' forehead.  
  
The four continued exchanging stories about where they had come from and why they were here, neither party realizing how important the other would prove to be in the end.  
  
_____________________  
  
1897  
  
Wanna break you.stupid girl.  
  
______________________  
  
Phantom didn't really go up to harass Silver. He left her to 'stew in her own juices' for a while. She let out a strangled cry. She continued screaming for five minutes or five hours, she wasn't sure. Hell, it could have been five days as far as Silver was concerned. The door opened and the sound, like a cloud, folded upon itself and flew back into her mouth and down her windpipe, making her gag.  
  
"He aint treatin' you too nice is he?" she recognized the voice, Murder.  
  
"Moidah.as far as I can tell, I'm already dead so it don't matter," she rasped, glaring up at the monster who had brought her to her doom. He knelt down and looked into her eyes.  
  
"You're scared of me," he stated plainly.  
  
"I'm shackled to a fucking wall! Damn straight I'se scared a ya!" she yelled in his face, she would grow hoarse sooner or later.  
  
"What happened to the fearless Emerald I hoid about?" it seemed that everyone in that damned place was playing on her mentality and her heart strings.  
  
"She died four years ago wid the fearless Hawkins."  
  
__________________________  
  
1897  
  
'so this is what I'm facin'  
  
__________________________  
  
The whole of the New York Newsies were getting ready to fight a war that wasn't supposed to be fought under a leader that wasn't made to lead. Dutchy and Blink were running rampant trying to get everything in order. Some of the boys they saw lining up in ranks were six and seven years old. And some of them would die.  
  
Mime was telling Spot, jersey, and Books things they weren't supposed to hear. Mime was telling the entire story of how Phantom came to power in the Bronx, and hoe he had uncovered the plot to kill Titan.and pretty much everyone else. There was also a plot to gather all the leaders of all the territories together and kill them. Spot merely stared incredulously.  
  
___________________________  
  
1897  
  
uninvited.  
  
_____________________________  
  
"So, Silver.let me tell you something."  
  
Yeah, I know. It's a short chappy and I suck.but believe me, the next few are gonna be a doozy! There will be interlopers! And outerlopers! And even worse.A LOST CHAPTER! Stay tuned to see what I mean!  
  
"Don't take the girl" Don't take the girl -NA  
  
"It's like a -censored- army marching in back of me" White America- Eminem  
  
"Should have stayed at home." Wishing I was there- Natalie Imbruglia  
  
"Wanna Break ya.stupid girl" Stupid Girl- Cold  
  
"So this is what I'm facin" Hailies Song  
  
"Uninvited" Uninvited, Alanis Morrisette  
  
P.S You might re-read the story.and try to remember everyone's name.It'll get confusing. (Like in oceans 11 when they do the re-cap of what went on) 


	10. Dont attack until you see the whites of ...

______________________  
  
Caught in the rain  
  
1879  
  
'Roxanne'  
  
________________________  
  
"You caint have any idea who da faddah is." a gaggle of girls was gathered around an Asian woman with a particularly protruding belly.  
  
"I don't cahah! I'se gonna be a muddah!" the women cried gleefully.  
  
"Roxanne! Tink about what you do! You're a hooker for Christ's sake! Whadda ya gonna do to make a livin?" many questions like this arose from the group. Then Roxanne screamed.  
  
"They're coming!" this was repeated several times in the next three hours as the women tried to comfort her.  
  
"My God." a motherly woman with wide eyes looked down at the sweating mother.  
  
"What, Melody? What is it? Is my baby okay?" her forehead creased and through her mind ran thought after thought about what exactly could be happening.  
  
"Yes," Melody held two screaming infants in her arms. "they're fine,"  
  
"What are you going to call them.there's a goil and a boy.." coos and similar questions arose.  
  
"I think I'll name them.Alex..and Lynne."  
  
_____________________________  
  
1897  
  
"for the very first time."  
  
___________________________  
  
"So.we're marchin' on to battle?" Dutchy whispered to Blink as newsie after newsie filed out of the lodging house.  
  
"Its crazy aint it." Blink replied shaking his head.  
  
"Some of these kids aint seven years old." he hadn't notice Switch walk up behind the pair.  
  
"Havin' second thoughts?" he questioned, placing an arm around Dutchy's thin shoulders.  
  
"Actually." Switch cut him off.  
  
"No? Good.join your fellow newsies,"  
  
The ranks of boys, because they were just mere boys, marched along with assorted weapons. Ropes, chains, knives, slingshots, brass knuckles, a few had even gotten their hands on guns. But many had only hands and feet to fight with. The one thing Switch had stressed to the masses was that silence was crucial above all things.  
  
"I wanna hear more noise out of Dice then I do you guys.no chains will swing, no ropes will drag, no voices will speak. No laughing, no speaking, no hitting, no coughing, no spitting, no whistling, no humming, no singing, and above all.nobody...I mean nobody sneeze,"  
  
He had said. So, the silent army moved, not in ranks, but alone. A few moved in groups, the smaller boys for instance. But otherwise, it seemed that, phenomenally, hundreds of boys were headed in the exact same direction. Any newsie would have known exactly what was going on. So none bothered to ask. One of the groups mentioned before, was Switch, Dice, Blink, Dutchy, and another boy from Queens called Tremor. Dice was the first to notice the shadowy figure in front of the quartet, blocking their path.  
  
"Who goes?" Dutchy whispered, "And where ya from?"  
  
"Moidah.I aint from here," he replied.  
  
"Where are you from?" Switch repeated the question.  
  
"I'm employed from the Bronx.but that's obvious." there was an instant scramble, both forward and back. Blink moving forward and Dutchy holding him back.  
  
"Now, tell me why I just kept you alive," Dutchy's bright eyes shone in the darkness, but you didn't need to see them to know they were glaring.  
  
"Because I know where she is.and I know who has her," Murder replied confidently. They weren't like Bronx newsies; a life was of consequence to them.  
  
"Well? Elaborate," Switch said.  
  
"Talk while we walk.we have somewhere to be," Dutchy said coldly, walking off into the rain.  
  
"Well, you know Phantom?" Murder whispered, trying to avoid puddles.  
  
"He's that freak from Bronx.right? The one with the harlequin mask?" Switch, Dice and Murder trailed the two Manhattan newsies.  
  
"Yeah.he used to go by the name Tragedy,"  
  
"Tragedy Lennox?" Switch spoke up.  
  
"Yeah him,"  
  
"Aint dat the guy who killed Hawk Logan?" Blink questioned.  
  
"Yeah. Anyhow, he had someone kidnap her. He has Spot, Jersey, and some guy named Books, too. I don't know what he's planning on doin.but that's Queens and Brooklyn right there.  
  
"Shit." Dutchy murmured, pausing for a brief moment and then quickening his pace.  
  
"Dutchy.Dutch!" Blink whispered fiercely, running to catch up with his companion.  
  
"Blink.this.oh God I never should've taken that damned bet."  
  
"Dutchy? What the hell are you talking about?" Blink grabbed his arm and held him still as they waited for the rest of their makeshift platoon.  
  
"Remember that bet Spot made us? About Silver?" The platoon had arrived and was now listening intently to what the strawberry blonde had to say.  
  
"Well.I found a goil down in south side and we swapped stories.I think her name was.ah.Link perhaps?" they continued walking and he tried desperately to remember.  
  
"Lynch perhaps?" Murder knew she definitely wasn't the kidnapper.  
  
"Yeah.you know her?" Murder gave a miniscule nod.  
  
"Don't worry, Lynch didn't kidnap your girl Silver," he reported shaking his head in shame.  
  
"How do you know that?" Blink asked, Murder was obviously hiding something.  
  
"Because I did," he quickened his pace and walked off into the nigh and was replaced by another individual, not originally part of the group. It was hard to tell anything about him, other than the fact that he was wet, because it was rapidly getting darker.  
  
"Who are you and where ya from?" Blink asked quickly, not stopping.  
  
"My names Saber.from Queens.several groups and odd boys have reached the warehouse described.we're awaiting instructions," the boy couldn't have been older then ten.  
  
"Okay.um.we'll walk with you," and walk with him they did.  
  
______________________  
  
1897  
  
Crossroads.  
  
_____________________  
  
"Phantom, they're coming in hoards." Shadow leant over and whispered into Phantoms ear. Before him were at least seventy or eighty boys. The roughest of the bunch, the rotten apples of New York. The reason common folk didn't like newsboys.  
  
"I know," he raised his voice, "I know they're coming Shadow.but honestly.did you really think they'd just let us take over New York without a fight? Oh they'll fight, it'll be pathetic and most of them will die.but they will fight nonetheless," cheers arose. The Bronx territory rivaled the Nazi army. Women were inferior and not allowed, the weak were cast aside or trod upon, and treason was punishable by death. Well, pretty much anything was punishable by death.  
  
"Well, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go execute the prisoners now," more cheers went up at this statement. Brawny newsies positioned themselves below every window, at the top and bottom of every stairwell, and in every doorway. Phantom had specifically told them that if anyone got to Silver, the ones responsible would be "hunted down and gutted like fish." "And then," he had said, "We'll kick you out,"  
  
"Who's guarding them?" Phantom questioned as he and Shadow made their way down to the 'dungeon'  
  
"I sent B.S. down there half an hour ago,"  
  
"I don't suppose you bothered to get a report from Mime," the question was put across with ambiguous sarcasm.  
  
"I would.but I don't think he'd talk to me," both boys laughed at the statement. They got to a door littered with padlocks and such.  
  
"Hm, they're being quiet.too quiet.perhaps B.S. got bored and laid them all out,"  
  
"Yeah, and perhaps if I stuck a rocket up your ass you might go faster, c'mon! I'm itchin t'kill something," Shadow nodded and unlocked the last bolt and let the two of them inside. It was too late when the door closed and they realized they were the only ones in there. Shadow heard the sickening click of locks closing. And slumped to the floor.  
  
"This is disappointing." Phantom said slowly.  
  
".and if there is one thing I do not like, it is to be disappointed,"  
  
"Well.there is no way any one can hear us from down here.there are no windows."  
  
"So no one can hear us?" Phantom questioned innocently. Shadow nodded dumbly.  
  
"And no one would know we were down here?" Shadow nodded once again.  
  
"Good," Phantom emptied his gun into Shadow's head.  
  
"Well.that takes care of that.now.to find a way out,"  
  
______________________  
  
1897  
  
"The very worst part of you is me,"  
  
________________________  
  
"Three bullets, three prisoners."  
  
That's what everyone thought when they heard the dull firing, or at least those from the Bronx. The army of newsies had hit the warehouse, piling in from every opening. And this was the masterful part of the plan, let them think they surprised us...then attack. And attack they did. Warehouse lights switched on one at a time and each side gave up a roar before they fused. Like to unbelievably large tidal waves, crashing into each other.  
  
It's was hard to hear much of anything over the clashing of weapon and skin, cracking bone against concrete floor, someone's last scream, and the occasional gunshot. Weapons of that caliber were hard to come by.  
  
"Jack! Jack help me!" one of the smaller boys was just saved from being mauled by a well placed slingshot marble. Jack Kelly looked up just in time to see Spot catapulting himself down the stairs.  
  
"You aint Jack!" Jack yelled over the roar.  
  
"Yeah! And you aint that quick! Now c'mon! Fight!" so both boy's tossed themselves into the throves of fighting newsies.  
  
So far it looked as if no one had died. But Anthony "Racetrack" Higgins was never known for sharp vision. He had no weapons other than fist and foot. He slammed one of those fists into someone's face. He felt the bone shift and teeth dislodge, he cuffed the rowdy once more and to the ground he fell. Many more would fall. But Race didn't want to think about that. No one did.  
  
"Skittery! Skitts! Where the heck are ya Skittery!" Snitch yelled and yelled above the crowds.  
  
"Snitchy!" the sound hit Snitches ears like that first breath of air when you've been under water for too long. Snitch raced through the masses trying to get to his most beloved friend. And then he saw him, and wished he hadn't. Skittery was lying in a corner with his upper torso was leaning against the wall. But that wasn't what upset Snitch. What upset Snitch were the three red splotches on Skittery's shirt.  
  
"No.no Skit, no," Snitch whispered shaking his head. Skittery murmured almost inaudible words that Snitch would keep with him forever.  
  
"Snitch you bummah.It aint 'posed ta be like this.we was.we was s'posed ta both go out screamin' like banshees, I aint hoid ya scream all night,"  
  
"Shut up y'bastard. Lissen, Skit.whatever happens, save me a spot.up in heaven y'know?"  
  
"Aight.but I don't wanna see you anytime soon unless you been screamin', you got me?"  
  
"Yeah Skit.I gotcha," the two spit shook once more as Skittery closed his eyes for the last time. Kloppman was the only one who could ever wake Skits up in the morning.now, he could just sleep, and never have to worry about what was happening outside of his eyelids. Not that he did anyway. So, taking everything that lay within his soul, and gathering into his wind pipe, Snitch let out an eerie roar the likes of which had never been heard.  
  
____________________________  
  
1897 "Everything's made to be broken"  
  
_______________________  
  
Phantom was still down in the basement. His companion had left him, but he was by no means alone. Suddenly, a voice sliced through the darkness, distorted by some sort of .something.  
  
" Well.finally alone?"  
  
"Who.who are you?" he yelled, looking desperately around to find his tormentor.  
  
"I'm someone who owes ya," miraculously, the voice seemed to come from a completely different corner of the room. It sounded different too.  
  
"What the hell do you want?" he questioned, still searching the room for any signs of life.  
  
"My name was Lynne.they made fun of me because my last name was Ching.but my nick name surfaced. I was Lynch,"  
  
"No.you cant be. Lynch is dead.I ordered her murdered,"  
  
"Yes, I know. My name was Landon Belt. I killed her because you told me to. I will be remembered as Mercy,"  
  
"I watched you kill him.just before the bullet hit me. My name was Dominic. But you called me Lethal.I was,"  
  
"No! No!" the enraged shouts were merely a feeble attempt to make the sound go away. Phantom was now totally unsure whether the voices came from the room or from deep within his head.  
  
"My name was Michael Smith. And you took me away from my brother.he isn't happy,"  
  
"I watched you kill them, and I did nothing. My name was Colby. Colby Gibson. But I was merely a shadow,"  
  
"Stop it! Stop it! Shut up!" he screamed, this wasn't happening all these people were dead. Someone was playing a joke on him. He ran to the door and pulled desperately on the handle, which promptly came off in his hand. More voices flooded into his ears, each speaking their name and newsie code. Phantom fell to his knees, the voices got louder and louder. Everyone he had ordered killed or had murdered personally was back for him. Suddenly, the voices stopped and he was back in the basement. Safe.almost.  
  
"Every time you killed someone, I watched," this new voice seemed totally fine, but eerily familiar. It was reminiscent of someone from long ago.someone Phantom had locked away in the farthest reaches of his mind. But forth came a name to go with a voice. Far from the fathoms of his sick mind came a face and a name.  
  
"Every time someone died, because you wanted them to, I watched you. I've been watching you for the last six years. I watched you take Emerald. And I saw you hurt her. Tragedy." the ghastly voice stopped for a moment and a pair of feet trudged out of the shadows. Phantom didn't see the gun held in the had that extended from a black clad arm.  
  
"No one hurts my little girl,"  
  
"Who are y-" his words were cut short by an echoing bang.  
  
"You don't deserve to know."  
  
_______________________  
  
1879  
  
" Why does it have to be?"  
  
_________________________  
  
Bruised and broken bodies lay scattered about the warehouse. Those who were not dead or dying were nursing those that were. When the boys paused for a moment to see what they were creating, they stopped for prolonged moments to mourn what they had done. One boy had taken a knife to his hands, hands that had killed someone. The Bronx boys were ruthless. But upon seeing one of their own, clutching the cold hand of a friend, with tears streaming down his face, they took a moment to wonder who would be next.  
  
"Spot," Jack gave a strangled whisper.  
  
"What have we done man.we.God.Race, Snoddy...Boots.Skittery.they aint coming back from this," Switch came to join them.  
  
"Guys.I think there's something you oughta see," he lead the two over to a corner where three or four guys were leaning over another boy, Jack and Spot were both dreading what they would see.  
  
________________________  
  
1900  
  
I wont be held responsible  
  
_____________________________  
  
Spot Conlon woke up sore. Old war pains, he told himself. On his bedside table was a letter. He didn't actually remember receiving it.just that it was important. He looked at the broken seal, unfolded the paper, and red the words.  
  
Spot,  
  
I'm sorry this is how it had to play out, but it is what it is and there's nothing anyone can do. I hope that the losses on your side weren't as great as the loss I know is in your heart. I'm gone, yes, gone but not forgotten apparently, seeing as how you've actually bothered to read this. I don't suppose you know the whole story.but I'm sure you know some of it. But I guess I should start at the beginning.My name was.  
  
MUAH HA HA HA! The next chapter will be all the things you missed in lapsed time. ENJOY  
  
"Roxanne" Roxanne- Moulin Rouge  
  
"For the very first time" Alive- POD  
  
"Crossroads" Crossroads- Bonethugs and Harmony  
  
"The very worst part of you is me" Lying from you- Linkin Park  
  
"Everything's made to be broken" Iris- Goo Goo Dolls  
  
"Why does it have to be?" Why does it have to be- Restless heart  
  
"I wont be held responsible" Freshmen- The Verve  
  
Alright..I've needed to do this, but I think now, at the climax of this hellish novel, will be the bestest time for my SHOUTOUTS.  
  
S H O U T O U T S---  
  
Raven's Wing- You are what made my story readable. Thank you SO much for all your help and your tips. You really are a truly awesome beta and I recommend you to anyone starting off. And another thing.I'm still looking for that update on Frost's story!  
  
Slick o' Brooklyn- You always give me extra cool, uber-long reviews and keep things amusing. And I do not care if you're too lazy to log in, believe me, I N-E-V-E-R log in for reviews. What's the point? Is there a point? I put all my cliff hangers in there, just for you. Just.don't get a heart attack after the last chapter.you're gonna hate it.  
  
Bottles- Yes, we are going to party like it's 1899! With the newsboys! But no one can have Spot. He's mine! Keep reading and reviewing, because if you don't.um.I will.send.scary men.to your door! Yes! That's it!  
  
FatBottomGirl- Love the name by the way. Any-hoo, yes! The stubbornness bites ass.but alas, it must be there. Fluff stories are for Valentines day or Christmas. It's June my good man.er.woman.whatever.  
  
Chronicles Bailey- YOU NEVER REVIEWED! See, that irks me. Crazy people go around asking for updates and they never read and review. I don't understand it. But anyhow, thanks lots'n lots for reviewing. once.  
  
Priscilla- Believe me, I've never been one to conform into the story writing thang.but I've always had this idea. But believe me, I'll show you conformity come the next chapter!  
  
Emaureen- Slip? Oblivion? Surely you jest! This is the first story I've actually followed through with and I fully intend on finishing it. Certainly, definitely, absolutely.  
  
KatFightOnSkis- This just keeps getting better and better doesn't it? Doesn't it? Okay, well.perhaps it doesn't.but you still have to keep reading because I said so.  
  
Sami- Yep, another chapter, I just keep shootin' em out there. But hey, with all the cliff hangers I'm leavin out.I gotta. So I hope you don't mind my quick uploading. Read on!  
  
Jo- Babe, chill. I can add you to the list of people I'm gonna.well.I'll shut up now.  
  
Eternal-sugar-high- Last but not leastest! You're a newbie to this story.well.keep reading young grasshoppa -bows- It gets better! 


	11. The End of The Road

______________________  
  
Caught in the rain  
  
1900  
  
"You're Gone away"  
  
____________________________  
  
Spot sat up and looked at the piece of paper for a moment. The bed frame creaked and groaned under the sudden movement. Everyone else was inside, because it seemed to have started raining again.  
  
"Shaddap will ya Spot! Some of us gotta sleep!" Spot nodded dumbly and slid out of bed, not bothering to change out of his slacks and wife beater. His hair was longer now, and looked a bit like Dices had. But that wasn't the only thing that had changed. The slacks hung on his slender hips and the shirt clung to his narrow shoulders. He looked old, he realized. But ever since Silver.he had grown up. He walked down the steps of the lodging house and looked into the cracked mirror, remembering the bruise she'd given him. He walked in the rain to a gazebo in the center of the park. The white paint was peeling, and the roof leaked.but it was sort of dry, so it would do. He began, once more, to read.  
  
.well, perhaps I'd better not tell you who exactly I am. But anyway, this is my story. I was born on the streets and had lived there all my life when I met Phantom. He wasn't Phantom yet, but I suppose that's irrelevant. I met Silver that way too, she wasn't Silver, but once again, not valid. He had an eye for her, always had from what I hear. I don't really blame him Spot. After he killed Hawkins, he seemed to disappear off the face of the earth, but at the same time, a new evil was rising. Convenient huh? Murder, whom I don't think you've met, kidnapped her. It wasn't his favorite assignment, but it was her life or his and he always was a selfish little bastard.but he changed. I think.  
  
_________________________________  
  
1897  
  
Uninvited   
  
___________________________________  
  
"So, Silver, let me tell you something," Murder said quietly. She barely had the strength to listen, let alone refuse his little speech.  
  
"There are things involved in this that you don't know shit about. So I'm gonna explain a few of 'em. The guys downstairs with your guy Spot.one of their names is B.S., Phantom killed his brother. The other one is called Mime. Lynch, one of the assassins set out for you was his sister. Something that isn't supposed to happen is going to happen in that very basement tonight. So now, I'm giving you two choices, you can go down there and get yourself killed, or I can give you this chain and you can run until your feet don't work anymore. Do you understand?" The eyes that had once been cold and uncaring had warmed up, and were now, almost kind.  
  
"Why do I have to run?" she whispered back, her mind weighing the pros and cons of each choice.  
  
"Because you're a runner kid, it's what you gotta do," a smirk edged its way onto his face.  
  
"What about Spot.does he really.y'know?" she hinted, looking up at her rescuer expectantly.  
  
"Well, you'll have to ask him later. What's your choice?" he began unlocking her shackles and eased her into a standing position.  
  
"Keep the chain," she said, stumbling a bit.  
  
"Alright, it's settled then," Murder said shaking the rain from his hair.  
  
"What happened there?" she questioned, gesturing to his blonde bangs.  
  
"I got hoit real bad when I was thirteen.stabbed.I lived with a doctor for about a year and accidentally spilled peroxide on myself," he smiled at the memory and then headed for the door. He placed his hand on the knob and turned, striding out into the next chapter of his life.  
  
"What's your name?" she whispered, looking at him, it seemed, for the first time in forever.  
  
"Taylor."  
  
_____________________________  
  
1897  
  
"You're telling me something real,"  
  
_____________________________  
  
Mime and Books were still swapping stories. Jersey and Spot were formulating a plan, a plan that involved B.S. Who, speak of the devil, had just walked in the door.  
  
"I don't suppose you think he's listening to you," B.S. said quietly as he walked over to join the quintet.  
  
"Now!" Books squawked, leaping out of his long since unlocked chains, he artfully snatched the hammer and dove to the ground behind Mime, Spot and Jersey.  
  
"You can have it back when you listen to what Mime has to say.sign.whatever, just sit down and listen!" Spot warned, wielding the hammer, it was times like these he wished he had his cane.  
  
"Why would I listen to him? What's he got that would interest me?" B.S. questioned narrowing his eyes.  
  
"Your brother, perhaps?" Books said quietly, creeping out from his hiding place.  
  
"What's Titan got to do with it?" he was now slightly intrigued.  
  
"Everything," Jersey murmured.  
  
____________________________  
  
1896  
  
"You don't see me"  
  
_____________________________  
  
Not for the squeamish or blood phobic  
  
"So, you're going to kill off Titan Smith?" Shadow asked quietly, leaning against the wall. They stood in the room that would later house Silver Hawkins. The door was closed.kind of. A small Asian boy stood outside, listening quietly to the plot as it unraveled.  
  
"Yeah, I scheduled a meeting with him tonight and his dumb ass brother will no doubt follow him. As the kid is coming up, I'll shoot him and blame it on someone else.then, I'll have hold on west Bronx as well as east," Phantom bragged. He was clad in all black and his trademark half harlequin mask. That half smile bridged from the white material, on which was painted half of an exaggerated frown. That in its self made Phantom horrifying. Suddenly, the sound stopped, and the eavesdropper was yanked into the room.  
  
"What exactly were you doing? Huh? What, I go upstairs to have private conversation and everyone comes to listen?"  
  
"What.what are you gonna to, Phantom.sir?"  
  
"I'm going to make sure you never eavesdrop again. And then I'm going to make sure you never tell anyone what you've heard," He yanked the boy to the floor by his throat and pulled a knife from his pocket, he had gotten a new one, since his old one was probably still buried in that pitiful stiff, Hawkins. He straddled the boy's chest at tried to get him to open his mouth. Knife and mouth were not considered a good combination. Finally, Phantom placed his thumb and forefinger at the base of the child's jaw, squeezing with all of his might, the mouth popped open and quick as a flash, the fingers placed themselves on the boys tongue, and with one quick slice, it was gone. He choked and gagged on his own blood, it dribbled down his chin, mixing with tears that were rolling down his cheeks from the intense, white-hot pain. Phantom tossed the severed appendage aside, and then began working on the boy's ears. He coughed out shrieks and screams of pain. But after a good quarter hour, it was done. Phantom and Shadow left the boy to shriek and scream at the disfigured monster he had become.  
  
_________________________________  
  
1897  
  
"You're telling me something real."   
  
___________________________  
  
"Jesus H..." B.S. stammered out swear words and looked desperately around himself.  
  
"I.I'm sorry Mime.I never knew.I.oh God," Mime merely nodded.  
  
"So, are you going to help us?" Spot questioned, waving the hammer back and forth.  
  
"Yes. I wanna kill that shitbrick [1] for what he's done to me and everyone else," after a few more moments of swearing profusely at himself, B.S. calmed down and the door slowly opened, someone walked inside.  
  
"They're coming," The stranger disappeared back through the doorway without another word.  
  
______________________________  
  
1900  
  
"You're Gone away"   
  
______________________________  
  
So, Spotty, that's how it went. The entire story is right here, in black and white. But don't worry. You'll see her again. And you must remember to believe in the things people say. Someone told her that she'd once again see me, and she did. Don't go looking for her though; she has to be alone until she finds someone to be alone with. I don't know her whereabouts and I don't think anyone does. Just keep her there with you, and maybe she'll come back. When.if she does, I'm not saying she'll stay. She needs to run Spot. It's what she does.  
  
Signed,  
Someone who watched  
  
Spot closed his eyes and remembered a song he'd heard her singing, just after she'd arrived.  
  
Taking steps back through The words I should've said you, They all got lost. You went away. I feel sick and, you just don't care anymore. You don't care. You're face is on a billboard And you're everywhere, You don't care much for interviews. You're gone, You're gone, You're gone, You're gone, You're gone, You're gone, You're gone. You're gone away. If you don't like being hurt then please don't stay. If you don't like being hurt, then get away.  
  
Had Spot opened his eyes, he might have seen the Silvery eyed girl rush past him, splashing through the ever-growing puddles. She was clad in gray slacks and a green thermal shirt. Her straight hair hung halfway down her back. As he opened his eyes, she paused, seeming to have forgotten something. She rushed back to peer at the gazebo, and at Spot. Even in the downpour, she merely stood, seemingly frozen.  
  
"What'cha doin?" Spot said just loudly enough to be heard.  
  
"Nuttin, I just.got caught in the rain."  
  
* squeal * That was so cute! Oh, it was the poifect ending! I can barely stand the adorable-ness of it all! I'm never telling you who wrote the letter.or who died in chapter ten or ANYTHING ELSE! This is worse than one of those pick your own story books. This is worse then a cliff hanging chapter it's A CLIFF HANGING STORY! BUAH! I wanna thank all of everyone for helping me lots and lots what with my story and all. I especially wanna thank my beta: Ravens Wing.  
  
[1] And another thing, thank you, Mondie, for turning me on to the term 'shit brick' (Everyone must read 'Anything but that')  
  
I love you all to death! And read my next story coming up soon! 


End file.
